


The Improbable Helena

by concupiscence66



Category: Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 39,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vince announces he has a twin sister who happens to look just like him and is coming for a visit. Howard Moon is no fool, he has it all figured out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Guess what, Howard?"

 

"Whale bone corsets are back? A bushbaby stole your bank card and spent all your money on tiny little shoes? Chartreuse is the new black?'

 

Vince shook his head in annoyance, "You're not even close! My twin sister, Helena, is coming for a visit. I haven't seen her in ages."

 

"You don't have a sister, Vince. You are," Howard gestured towards Vince's sequined jumpsuit, "the epitome of the only child."

 

"I do have a sister. You're supposed to be my best mate and you don't even know about Helena? I need to rethink our relationship," Vince looked sincerely saddened by Howard's words, "You might get bumped to my second best mate. Leroy might be up for a promotion after this."

 

xxx  
It was two days before Vince brought up his imaginary sister again.

 

"I told her she could stay here with us but she's insisting on staying at a hotel. Do you reckon she thinks our flat isn't good enough for her?"

 

"You don't have a sister, Vince. Now stop this nonsense and sweep the floor."

 

"Why do I have to sweep the floor? And I do have a sister."

 

"You don't and the floor only needs sweeping because it's covered in glitter from your outfit."

 

Vince looked at the considerable pile of pink glitter at his feet, "This jumpsuit might need to be a club only outfit. And I do have a sister."

 

"You don't have a sister!"

 

"You sound just like my mum."  
xxx

 

"Here's a picture of me and Helena as babies!"

 

Howard looked down at the photograph Vince had just shoved into his hand.

 

"I see. This is a picture of you, Vince Noir, and your twin sister, Helena Noir, standing in a crib."

 

"I told you, Howard. We looked just alike as babies."

 

"You do realize you can't have an identical twin who is a woman? It's physically impossible."

 

"Who are you? Chairman of gender regulation?"

 

"It's simple genetics."

 

"I know all about genetics..."

 

"You can't even spell genetics!"

 

"J-a-n-e-d-i-c-k-s."

 

"I took you out of school too early, sir."

 

"I don't need to be good at spelling to know I have a twin sister," Vince snapped as he pulled the photo from Howard's hand, "Look at us, we were well cute."

 

"That is clearly two pictures of you sellotaped together!"

 

"It is not! The picture got cut in half and I had to tape it together."

 

xxx  
An hour before Helena was scheduled to arrive, Vince suddenly realized his roots were beginning to show and he needed to get his hair done.

 

"So, you're going to run to the hairdresser's and I'll just wait here for your 'sister' to show up?"

 

"I'll probably be back before she gets here. If I'm not, just keep her company until I get back."

 

xxx  
Helena arrived on time, Vince was still out.

 

Considering he had left an hour ago, Howard thought Vince could have made a bit more of an effort. 'Helena' was a slightly more feminine version of Vince. Her jet black hair was piled on top of her head and her make-up was only slightly more dramatic than Vince's everyday look. Her black babydoll style dress was almost obscenely short and accompanied by thigh high silver boots.

 

"You must be Howard!" exclaimed Vince's twin as she ran towards him, "I'm so excited to meet you!"

 

Howard tried to back away but hit a wall. Helena grabbed the sides of his face and planted a kiss on his cheek, her heavy perfume stung his eyes.

 

"Helena, what a shame you've missed Vince. Oddly enough, he had to run out and get his hair done just when you were set to arrive."

 

Helena pouted, "I know, he sent me a text. Blond hair with black roots is one thing but black hair with blond roots? That is straight out."

 

"Why don't you have a seat, I'll make you some tea and we'll wait for Vince to arrive. I'm really looking forward to seeing the two of you together. In the same room."

 

Helena looked at her phone, "Actually, I should check into my hotel and freshen up. Vince is taking me to a club tonight. Apparently the owner is a French cube."

 

"Then we should all have dinner together, before you go out. Give us all time to get to know one another."

 

Helena was unperturbed, "Maybe just you and I could have dinner? Then you can give me the real scoop on what my brother's been up to. You know you can't believe a word that beautiful boy says."

 

"Beautiful? He's all pointy. He looks like a hedgehog mated with an anteater."

 

The jibe failed to land. Helena simply laughed, "Vince told me you have a wonderful sense of humor. Pick me up at eight. We'll have dinner and then Vince can show me the wonders of Camden."

 

Helena grabbed a pad of paper and pen from stationary village, wrote down the name and address of her hotel and was out the door before Howard could argue.

 

xxx  
An hour later, Vince returned.

 

"What's this about you asking out my sister? That's not on, Howard. That is not best mate behavior. Leroy has been gunning for your position for years..."

 

"Vince," Howard sighed, "You've gone wrong."


	2. Chapter 2

Vince sat hunched over his sewing machine, turning last year's fashions into a new catsuit. Howard admired the quick and nimble movements of Vince's slender fingers as the man created what must be the ugliest outfit Howard had ever seen.

He'd been grilling Howard with questions about his 'sister' for hours. What did she look like? What was she wearing? Was she better looking than Vince? More stylish? Was her hair bigger and shinier?

"She looks like a girl version of you, Vince," was Howard's reply, "Which is to say, she looked exactly like you."

As Howard got ready for dinner with 'Helena', Vince hovered over him, making sartorial suggestions. Suggestions like, "Please burn those trousers" and "It isn't too late to buy a new outfit" and "Let me cut your hair. It's hard to get it just right when you're sleeping."

At 7:45, Howard announced he was heading to Helena's hotel. Vince barely looked up from his sewing.

Howard casually put on his hat and jacket and walked out the door. As soon as he hit the street, he broke into a full out run. There was no way Vince was getting to that hotel before him.

xxx  
The hotel was only a few blocks from the shop but it is quite posh. Howard felt very out of place jogging through the elegant lobby. He was out of breath and the mirrors in the lift revealed him to be red-faced and disheveled. He tried to pull himself together, not wanting Vince to see how much effort he had put into catching him out.

He knocked on the door, not expecting an answer.

"Howard? Is that you?"

Damn!

"Yes, Helena. Am I early?"

"Just give me one minute!"

Helena answered the door in a bathrobe. Half her hair was a lovely cascade of silken curls. The other half was pulled up in little clips. Her make-up was dramatic and sultry. Her perfume was nauseatingly strong.

She gave him a cheeky, Vince-like smile and said, "All right, Howard?"  
xxx

Howard sat on the bed while Helena finished curling her hair. She lectured him on destroying the illusion by seeing her only half ready.

"Vince told me you didn't know a thing about women but really..."

"I beg your pardon, s- m'am. Howard Moon is a man of the world. He is also a man of good manners and punctuality."

Her laugh was sweet and distinctly un-Vince-like. Sitting in a hotel room with 'Helena' (still only wearing a robe) was enough to bring a flush to Howard's cheeks. A mantra of "Howard Moon is a man of the world" echoed through his brain but it couldn't quite squash his feelings of being a adolescent boy. 'Helena' was a striking woman.

Howard asked Helena about her life. Unsurprisingly, she was a fashion designer in France and modeled on the side. What else would the sister of Vince Noir do for a living? She was fabulously wealthy and owned a summer house on the Riviera.

"You and Vince should come for a holiday!"

"Why have you never invited Vince, before?"

Helena's face fell, "That's... that's a complicated question. Let's just talk about simple things tonight. I don't feel like being complicated."

Howard's instinct to grill her faded when she turned a dazzling smile on him. He didn't ask any more questions, he just listened to her chatter away until she announced, "It's time to be a gentleman."

Howard was startled by the implication. He'd been careful not to stare or even glance at Helena's bare legs. Admittedly, he was curious the see if Helena had breasts but he hadn't ogled...

Helena was standing up and holding the tie of her robe, "Gentleman, Howard!"

Howard squeezed his eyes tightly shut until Helena announced she was decent.

She stood before him, pigeon-toed in stilleto heels, looking up at Howard through her fringe. Howard thought her dress looked like a high fashion potato sack. It was shiny, black, shapeless and ridiculously short.

"You look... nice?"

Helena tossed her head back and laughed. As soon as she moved, the dress looked less like a sack and more like a second skin, clinging to her every curve. She slipped her arm through Howard's and gripped him when he instinctively pulled away.

"Let's have dinner, Mr. Moon."

xxx

Helena picked at a salad and drank red wine. Howard wondered if she had sweets hidden in her purse. She insisted on hearing story after story about the adventures of Howard and Vince but resisted discussing herself.

"I'm just boring. I want to know about you, Howard."

The evening took a surprising turn when Helena asked about Howard's musical tastes.

"I'm a jazz man. None of this plastic pop for me, no s- m'am."

"What kind of jazz? I'm partial to the old stuff. I love Louis, Ella... How amazing is Cab Calloway?"

Howard's jaw fell as far open as possible whilst still being attached to his face.

Helena frowned, "No? You like the modern stuff? Jazz fusion, maybe? I'll bet you're into the Weather Report, aren't you? Birdland? Yeah, you like Birdland! I can see it in your tiny little eyes."

"But you hate jazz."

"Vince hates jazz, not me. Vince has never had the blues," Helena explained, her expression suddenly thoughtful, "You can't understand jazz when you're made of sunshine."

xxx

Not even for the sake of proving Vince was creating an elaborate ruse would Howard step into Jacques Le Cube's nightclub but he agreed to walk 'Helena' accross town. The combination of the barely there dress and stiletto heels could be dangerous late at night.

Sure enough, they'd been walking for less than ten minutes when someone yelled, "Oi, darlin'. Watcha doin' walking with your dad at this hour?"

They walked faster but there were footsteps plodding along behind them and soon there was a pair of huge, poorly evolved skinheads on either side of them. One skinhead threw an arm around Howard while the other pulled Helena to his chest, his hand moving under her micro-dress.

Normally in times of great stress and terror, Howard's instinct was to run or beg for mercy. Watching Helena being manhandled filled him with a cold dread. This could go very badly.

Very, very badly.

Howard needed to be a man of action, a man of daring and bravery. He had a plan.

Howard nuzzled his head into his skinhead's shoulder and whispered, "Oh, yeah. This feels right."

When the skinhead backed away in a homophobic panic, Howard punched him in the crotch and ran towards Helena who was desperately trying to control her skinhead's wandering hands.

"Give us a kiss, love. How old is your boyfriend? 60? 65?"

Howard growled, "Not a day over 57," as he grabbed the man's left wrist with both hands and succeeded in just barely moving it from Helena's rear end. It gave Helena enough room to pull some Root Booster out of her purse. She sprayed her assailant dead in the eyes and ran.

Ran might not be the most accurate term. She stumbled awkwardly in her heels as Howard pulled her along until they found an all night chemist and called Naboo.

xxx

Naboo and Bollo arrived on their flying carpet. Judging by their red eyes, the carpet was hardly the only thing keeping them ten feet off the ground. Helena looked mildly surprised as she climbed on board.

"I thought Vince was making this part up."

Howard tried and failed not to look at her long legs and she struggled to find a position that was both comfortable and kept her reasonably covered up. Naboo and Bollo seemed to have no trouble believing Helena was Vince's surprise twin sister. Howard wondered if they had been in on it from the beginning.

"Tony Harrison's wife is out of town this weekend," mentioned Naboo, "Me and Bollo are going for a visit. Maybe Helena can help around the shop while we're gone."

Howard had always imagined the mystical shaman parties would involve strange magic and inter-dimensional travel. The more he heard about them,though, the more they sounded like teenage house parties; Lots of cheap beer and cheap feels and weak, overpriced drugs bought from the children's park.

When they arrived at the club, Howard instinctively played the gentleman and helped Helena down from the carpet.

"Howard, I don't know what to say. You really saved me back there."

Howard was torn between embarrassment and his desire to brag.

"Don't be daft, Helena. You're a cockney bitch. You could have handled them."

Then Helena planted a warm and slow kiss on Howard's cheek.

Vince had accused Howard of falling in love with everyone who showed him the slightest bit of affection. There may have been some truth to his words.

Howard wanted to marry Vince's imaginary sister. He imagined their children, Howard and Helena Jr. If they had a third, they would name the child Vince after the man who brought them together.

At home. Howard tried to clear the insanity from his mind with jazz fusion but it didn't work. He decided to choose another album at random.

He stared at the album he had blindly chosen.

Cab Calloway.


	3. Chapter 3

Howard was having some pretty confusing dreams when he heard someone come stumbling into his room. He looked up to see a slim figure clad in a mini-dress silohuetted in his doorway.

"Helena?"

"It's me, you berk!" Vince snapped, "We've only been best mates since we were in short pants and now you don't even recognize me?"

Vince flopped onto Howard's bed, every inch of his body was pouting, not to mention sweaty.

"Are we giving up on this Helena facade?" Howard asked hopefully. 

"G'ah! You had dinner with her, how can you not believe... I don't understand you, Howard."

"I hate to break it to you, Vince, but you're wearing Helena's dress."

Far from deterred, Vince explained that he and Helena had switched clothes at the club.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Why? Because... I don't remember," Vince whined, snuggling into Howard's side, "I must have had fifteen flirtinis. We didn't have to buy a drink all night."

"Maybe you should go to your own room and your own bed and sleep it off, then."

"No way! You are not getting out of answering my question, Mr. Moon," Vince somehow managed to snap and slur the words at the same time.

"What question would that be?"

"Why... Oh, sod it. I've forgotten. I never been so pissed in me life."

Vince threw a boot clad leg over Howard and pressed his face into Howard's neck. It wasn't uncommon for Vince to invade his roommate's personal space when he was drunk but this was rather... extreme.

"Vince?"

"Hmm?

"Did you shave your legs?"

"Yeah!" Vince shouted in Howard's ear, "That's why we switched clothes, so Helena could show me her leg hair remover thingie! It was genius, like a sander."

There were less than thirty seconds between the word sander and Vince's first gentle snore. Howard tried in vain to dislodge his sweaty roommate but the man was a dead weight. He opted to give up and try to sleep. His feelings of confusion were not quelled by the feeling of Vince's half-mongrel pressing into Howard's hip through Helena's tiny dress. It was not a restful sleep.

xxx

Howard woke up alone in his bed, the smell of Vince's sweat on his pajamas. They were going to need to revisit the 'no-touching' rule.

It was unsettling to find Vince up, dressed and making tea. The world had gone wrong.

Vince had only made a minimal effort with his hair and was wearing one of his less elaborate outfits, the one Howard thought of a 'pirate-casual'. He looked like a man who'd had a long night.

"All right, Vince?" It was less a greeting than a question.

Vince mumbled into his mug.

"Rough night?" Howard asked with mock concern.

Vince frowned and put his head on the kitchen table.

Howard had tea and breakfast, coaxed Vince into nibbling a slice of dry toast, and opened the shop. He was several hours into an uneventful day when Vince came bursting in.

"I remember what I was going to ask you!"

Vince's stance was triumphant but undermined by his ashen face and wobbly legs.

Howard looked up from Stationary Village, he'd just been adding a stapler remover villa.

"Why didn't you look?"

"You see, little man, this is one of those instances in which you think you are making sense but in fact..."

"If you're so sure Helena isn't real, why didn't you peek when she put on her clothes?" 

Howard felt a flush come to his cheeks, "Why would I look?"

"If you thought it was me, why would you care if you saw me in pants? You've seen me in my pants. You've seen me naked. Remember when I fell asleep on my straightners and you had to..."

"I prefer not to remember that time!" Howard snapped. He had spent quite a bit of time nursing a naked Vince's wound. Vince had tried to create a crimp to commemorate the occasion but Howard had put his foot down. Some things don't need to be told in song form.

"How do you know I didn't look?"

"She said you kept your eyes squeezed shut the whole time. She watched you to see if you'd look."

Howard was never so grateful to hear a phone ring as he was at that moment. Vince grabbed the phone from the counter, his accusing blue eyes still fixed on Howard.

"All right, Helena. Are you feeling as bad as I am right now?"

Howard didn't notice he was squeezing the top of the staple remover village until the roof popped off in his hand. Vince was being incorrigible.

"Let me talk to Helena," he demanded as he closed in on Vince, "I want to ask her to dinner tonight. I want another date with your twin sister."

Vince dodged Howard's first two efforts to grab the phone but then turned a ghastly pale and ran from the room.

Howard listened to Vince slam the door of the bathroom shut as he brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Helena!" he said in his cheeriest voice, "So lovely to speak to you. We simply must get together again."

Howard nearly fainted when Helena replied, "Why not tonight?"

Howard dragged the phone as close to the bathroom as possible but the chord wasn't long enough.

"Just out of curiousity, Helena, why did you ring the store and not just Vince's cell, directly?"

"I was rather hoping you'd answer the phone," she replied in what could only be described as a flirtatious tone.

"Um, well, uh...." Howard held the phone out as he leaned his whole body toward the bathroom door but he simply couldn't hear any noise at all. The door was too thick and Howard was too far away.

"Pick me up at eight. I've been hearing about a restaurant called 'The Place' that's supposed to be marvelous."

Howard wanted to say, "I know this is you, Vince. Quit trying to make a fool of me. Quite exploiting my lack of experience with the fairer sex for your amusement."

What he said out loud was, "I haven't any nice clothes. I would need nice clothes."

The silence on the other end of the line went on so long, Howard began to feel more paranoid than usual. He was about to hang up when he heard Helena speaking softly, "Then come at 7:30. We'll get you sorted."

Howard hung up the phone, jogged to the bathroom and banged on the door.

"Just leave me to die, Howard. Bury me in my mirrorball suit."

Howard walked back to the phone and dialed Vince's cell. Not even the thickness of the bathroom door could muffle the sound of Gary Numan's "Cars" coming from his roommate's cellular phone. Vince was being surprisingly clever with this little ruse but not clever enough to outfox Howard Moon. He felt triumphant.

But maybe a little disappointed.


	4. Chapter 4

Howard patiently waited for Vince to come out of the bathroom of his own accord but after half an hour, he became concerned and decided to check on his friend. When Vince didn't respond to his knocks (or kicks or yells), Howard jimmied the lock with a paperclip. He found Vince sound asleep on the bathroom tile, his cellphone lying across the room. He'd obviously hurled the phone at the wall, the back was off and the battery was lying a few feet away. Howard felt a mixture of smugness and sympathy for his little man. Vince was trying so hard to outsmart Howard, as though his one brain cell stood a chance against the shrewd mind of Howard Moon.

He half-dragged a mumbling Vince upstairs and into bed, Vince's own bed this time. He tucked Vince in properly and brushed his fringe back from his damp forehead. He did the things he remember his mother doing when Howard was ill as a child, like leaving a cup of tepid tea and some saltines on Vince's dresser. Howard had always imagined he'd be married with children of his own by this age. Instead, he lived above a customerless boutique with his best mate, a doped up Shaman and a talking gorilla and he had a date with his best friend in drag in about three hours. Things weren't looking good on the 'wife and children' front.

xxx

Vince came stumbling down the stairs a little after 6pm. He was pale and glassy eyed but insisted he needed to go see Leroy, who was having a crisis.

"So, Leroy is having a crisis an hour and a half before I'm supposed to meet with your sister? What a strange coincidence," Howard mused.

"Howard, you've really lost it. I can't even talk to you any more," Vince pouted as he shrugged on an orange jacket made entirely of fringe, "Don't try it on with my sister. I don't want my nieces and nephews to be born with tiny eyes and mustaches."

"I don't think that's very likely to happen," was Howard's biting reply. Unfortunatly, it was about fifteen minutes after Vince left the building. Still, Howard felt that, deep inside, Vince knew he'd been burned.

xxx

Howard's hands were sweating when he arrived at the hotel. 'Helena' was going to help him find clothes. He was going to end up at the most elegant restaurant in London wearing a transparent jumpsuit and a hat made of ostrich feathers. His only other option would be to look into those big, hopeful blue eyes and say 'no'. He'd exposed himself to the spirit of jazz, knowing what would happen because of that wide-eyed look. When Vince had been forced to 'walk the plank' for giving the ship's captain a mullet, Howard had followed for the same reason. Ever since they'd been children and the sandy headed pip-squeak said, "You're well weird and you talk funny. Do you want to be my best mate?", Howard had been enchanted by the pure and guileless nature of Vince Noir.

Before heading to Helena's room, Howard dropped by the front desk. There was one piece of the puzzle that continued to elude him. How the bloody hell was Vince able to afford a room in such an expensive hotel?

Howard cleared his throat and lowered his voice as he spoke to the man behind the counter.

"Man to man, I've got a bit of a problem. You see, I'm meeting a very beautiful and elegant woman in room 215, you may have noticed me here yesterday? Yeah? Well, I can't quite remember the young lady's last name and I don't think it would go over well if I have to ask again. It wouldn't be... genltemanly. If you know what I mean?"

The uniformed man kept his face still, minus a tiny quirk of the lips.

"I believe Miss Jaquettie is expecting you, you wouldn't want to keep her waiting."

Howard tried to maintain his appearance of being a man of the world as he walked to the elevator. No wonder Vince had hit the clubs so hard the night before. He probably had to spend the night with Jean Claude Jaquettie stamped on his rear in exchange for a free hotel room. Vince was always happy to be a human billboard. Shallow, silly, empty-headed Vince. Howard felt such a wave of affection for his unlikely friend, he considered actually giving he man a hug when he opened the door.

Helena opened the door on the second knock. Howard decided he'd give Vince a hug at some more appropriate time. Maybe as a Christmas gift.

Helena wore a shimmering silver dress made of a thick and scratchy looking material, like something a space-aged nun might wear. Of course, the nun would probably go with a longer hemline; unless the nun was three feet tall.

"Look at me, Howard!" she chirped, "I'm actually ready on time. See the effect you have on me?"

Howard might have responded with something clever if she hadn't then grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the room.

"I picked out two suits for you that I thought you'd like. It's not too late to order something else if you hate them both," Helena explained before flinging open the closet door.

Howard took a step backwards, half-expecting to be attacked by spangles and sequins.

In the closet were two brown suits. One was dark brown, a thoughtful chestnut, and the other was more of a pensive muffin. They were far too expensive and finely made to actually belong in Howard's closet but they certainly looked like the kind of suits in which he'd like to be buried.

He didn't know how long he'd been staring before Helena stepped in front of him, her blue eyes wide with concern, "You don't like them? It's fine, really. I'll make a call, I just thought..."

"No, Helena, they're perfect. They're tasteful, muted, masculine, brown... I'm just a bit taken aback. I expected something more..."

"Something Vince would have picked?" Helena asked with a cheeky grin, "He wanted me to put you in some tuxedo drainpipes but I said no. I tried to pick something you'd like."

Helena casually pushed a lock of Howard's lank hair behind his ear.

"Well, I appreciate the effort. Howard Moon is a man of dignity and class..." Howard Moon's throat was closing and it was getting harder to breath.

Helena smiled, "Then let's get you dressed. Don't worry, I won't peek..."

Helena put her hands over her eyes, spreading her fingers so Howard could see her saucy wink.

xxx

Howard went with the darker, browner suit. It fit perfectly. Naturally, Vince knew Howard's measurements. He'd made Howard several hideous outfits over the years. This was the first time Vince had put his knowledge to good use. Standing in front of the mirror in a well-made suit, Howard felt like another person. He felt dignified, elegant and even handsome. He felt like the man he was always pretending to be.

He jumped when Helena's image appeared in the mirror behind him. Her laugh was warm and free of derision. 

"Howard, you look so handsome! The chesnut brings out your eyes and the hint of peach in the shirt really brightens your face," Helena's hands moved casually over Howard's chest and face as she spoke, "There's a hint of whimsey in the tie but I thought it was still simple enough..."

"It's perfect," Howard blurted out before his old friend, paranoia, settled in, "I mean, it's a bit much for my tastes. I'm a simple man, a man of substance with no use for finery and frills."

Helena placed a finger over Howard's lips, "Let's do something with your hair, you great Northern hippy. I can tell the Midnight Barber has been having his way with you."

xxx

Considering he'd spent the last night with a drunken and half-naked Vince sprawled across his body, it shouldn't have been so nerve wracking to have Helena play with his hair and yet all the blood in his body was rushing to his face.

Actually, it wasn't all rushing to his face, it was also rushing other places but Howard thought hard about Bob Fossil dancing and about Old Gregg and every other horrible, erection-destroying experience in his life. He had a lot to think about as long, slender finger slipped through his hair.

"You're hair is so fine it's like..."

"Brown smoke?"

Helena laughed her lovely laugh, "You're well weird, Howard, but in a good way. Like spiced sour cream."

He wasn't allowed to look in the mirror until Helena was done and he was a bit trepidatious. He fully expected a mohawk or a Shirley Temple ringlets. Iinstead, his hair was brushed back from his face in a sort of gentle way, like he'd been in a very flattering breeze. It was the kind of tousled look that seemed effortless but apparently required the application of five different hair products. He wondered how long Helena spent on her messy and carefree bun of hair. 

Helena stepped in front of him and surveyed her work, "You are looking good, Mr. Moon. Let's go turn some heads."

Even in her silver stilettos, Helena needed to go on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Howard's nose.


	5. Chapter 5

Dressed to the nines, Howard suddenly felt self-concious about the Boosh Mobile. It wasn't the eccentric artwork that worried him, he loved Vince's creation, it was the interior. For one thing, the van always smelled like pot, hairspray and monkey. It was also always filled with half-finished joints, candy wrappers and layers of Vince and Bollo's hair.

"Should we take a taxi?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't want to sound rude, Howard, but no way are we taking your vehicle. Your friends shed!"

xxx

"The Place" was indeed the place to be and there was a line around the block. Helena manuvered her way through the crowd with a firm grasp on Howard's wrist. Howard was well-accustomed to being stared at but it was different with Helena. People were looking at them with approval and envy rather than fear and confusion.

They were immediately seated when Helena whispered in the Maitre'd's ear. The floor of the restaurant was made of glass and exotic and colorful fish floated beneath their feet. Helena gently tapped her heel on the glass and squatted down with surprising elegance.

"They can't hear you through the glass," Howard reminded her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him through her fringe, "I know, I just want them to know..." She waved her hand as she trailed off.

"That you're listening? They know, they always know. Come on, little... Helena."

Helena gave him smirk that somehow, on her, was more charming than insulting.

xxx

Howard's paranoia was at about an 11 on a scale of 1-10. People kept staring at them. The menu was in French. The prices were outrageous. Someone wanted him to smell a wine cork. The cork smelled nothing like the wine he and Vince had been making at home since they were teenagers. They had perfected the art over the years. A couple of glasses of Moon Noir and a half-naked satsuma battle was nearly inevitable. 

Helena was chewing her lower lip nervously and couldn't seem to stop fidgetting with her jewelry. Howard wanted to say something to put her at ease but nothing came to mind.

They both jumped when the waiter came for their order. Helena asked the elegantly coiffed man for another moment.

"Of course, Miss Helena. Take your time!" he groveled.

"Howard, I know you hate this place and everyone in it..."

"I have no idea what you're talking about! I'm having just a... grand time." He could barely articulate the lie.

Helena smiled and snapped her fingers. The waiter came dashing back.

"We'll have a bottle of your best single malt Scotch. My friend will have a steak the size of his head and he wants the middle to be the same color as my lip gloss. If I can see his jacket potato under the butter and sour cream, you haven't put enough on. I'll have have a great big piece of chocolate cake for my meal and a smaller one for dessert."

xxx

Halfway through his steak, Howard's vision was swimming. He knew he was laughing too loudly but Helena was demonstrating her 'modeling' faces and he couldn't remember ever seeing something so funny in his life.

"And this is my, 'Look at how thin I am in a frock made of unicorn eyelashes and gaffer tape' look. That is a look that has made me some serious money, Howard!"

As he pulled off his jacket, feeling overly warm from the drink, he noticed the label read Jacquettie Handbag. He commented on the odd name.

"That's me, you berk! My Handbag collection when I worked for Jean. I think I might have designed it for you. It looks like it was meant to be on you. Do you think I knew you existed before we ever met, like in a dream?"

Howard looked at the beautiful jacket, so tastefully designed and flattering to his frame.

"Why Handbag when it's a suit?"

"Because my name is Helena!"

Howard tried to follow her but her logic escaped him much like his fork escaped his hand and clattered to the floor.

"Helena Handbag! Get it!"

Howard did get it. He laughed so hard his eyes watered as the Scotch he was drinking shot out his nose.

"Helena, I think I've had too much."

"No such thing as too much of a good thing," Helena explained as she poured him another shot, "You have to stock up on happiness. There's often a drought."

xxx

Helena held her shoes in one hand and her leftovers in the other as they left the restaurant. Howard did his best to keep her steady with a hand on her waist. She seemed so tiny without her heels. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her and...

Old Gregg lifting his tutu. Bollo pleasuring himself on the couch like he was still at the zoo. Elenore.

They had nearly made it to the waiting cab when they ran straight into a striking, dark-haired woman.

"Howard?" the brunette blur exclaimed in surprise.

He tried to focus his eyes but it only took a slight bit of squinting for tiny his eyes to simply become closed.

"It's me, Mrs. Gideon. We worked together at the zoo..." the blur explained.

Howard frantically tried to remember who she was but came up with nothing, "I'm sorry, I've been drinking."

The blur seemed to frown as Helena shoved him into the cab snapping, "Quite trying to pull other birds. You're on a date, Mister."

Howard was in the cab when it hit him, "Mrs. Gideon! I know her..."

He was cut off by Helena's mouth closing over his.

xxx

"She won't forget you now!" Helena yelled triumphantly as she pulled away, leaving the taste of cherries and chocolate on Howard's lips.

Howard stared blankly at his companion.

"She could never remember your name before. She'll always remember you now," Helena explained, "Women love men who are taken."

"That's a sexy thing to say," Howard admonished, not noticing his mistake until Helena giggled. Tears were ruining her artfully applied mascara. "I meant to say, that's sexist. Women aren't all shallow."

Helena suddenly stopped laughing and looked terribly serious, "You're right, Howard. Not all girls are like her."

This time, she pulled Howard towards her slowly. It was different from the rooftop. That kiss had been big and showy, this was just a gentle pressing of the lips. He still didn't know what to do with his hands.

xxx

Helena's dress was a little scratchy from the silvery threads woven into the material but her stockinged legs were smooth. For nearly a year, Howard had been replaying his first and only kiss over and over in his head. There were similar moments, like when Helena tilted her head and went for his throat, but otherwise, it was all thrillingly new. There was still someone watching, the cab driver was shameless, but there was no apparent danger. Even off his tits on whiskey, he wasn't likely to fall to his death during this kiss.

There was also a whole new level of possibility in this kiss. Helena climbed into his lap, her legs straddling his and her dress hiking up dangerously. It wouldn't take much to shatter the illusion of the lovely Helena.

He kept his hands on her waist as he ran his tongue along the corner of her mouth, the way he'd seen Vince do a million times when he was embarassed. It was something Vince did to look silly, he was pulling a face, but the effect had become disturbing when they entered puberty. What about Vince hadn't become disturbing after puberty?

He slowly moved his hand up the front of Helena's dress, giving her ample time to stop him, before cupping her small breast. He couldn't be sure what he was feeling through the thick material but it felt real enough to his inexperienced hand. A voice from his addled brain (a voice that sounded oddly like Vince) reminded him not to grope Helena like he was a horny teenager. The voice was very small and quiet compared to the messages coming from every other part of his body. He moved his mouth down her neck and kissed her through her scratchy dress. He was reminded of the hint of stubble that had been on Vince's cheek.

Helena's hand moved between their bodies, filling Howard with a mixture of excitement and fear. At this point, it might not take much more than a light touch to bring the evening to an early end. The older he got, the more his virginity plagued Howard. A woman expected a grown man to know what he was doing, she expected a man to be able to please her and not come in his pants during a stiff breeze.

He tried to think of terrible and unsexy things but Helena's perfume filled his senses and when her hand gave him the lightest stroke, he let out an embarassing moan.

Helena laughed. Her face was an inch from his and she was literally laughing in his face.

The laughter stopped as she went flying accross the back of the cab.

"What the fuck, Howard!"

"Don't you dare laugh at me, you little bitch!" He was shaking with anger and frustration, "I am not a joke or a..." His drunken mind couldn't come up with another word. He felt like a joke. It was all a joke.

"What?" the posh lilt to Helena's voice was gone, her accent was pure South London, "I weren't laughing, you idiot!'

"You were laughing at me, you've been laughing this whole time!"

"It's called a girlish giggle, you berk! It's supposed to be sexy. Why would I be laughing? Have you gone mental? If this shoe," she held her heel in demonstration, "didn't cost $12,000, it would be up your great northern ass."

The cab driver was now fully turned around and watching them openly.

"Oi, driver," Helena barked, "you're not getting paid to stare. Get me to my hotel, now!"

Howard clenched his knees with shaking hands, willing himself to calm down. He'd known it was coming. He'd known from day one that it would end in humiliation but the illusion had been so tempting.

It was ten minutes of painful silence before they pulled in front of Helena's hotel. Helena poked him in the arm with her expensive shoe, her mouth was tense but she no longer looked furious.

"Howard, come upstairs. We need to talk."

Howard shook his head no.

"You owe me that much."

"She's got a point," added the cabbie.


	6. Chapter 6

Howard kept his eyes fixed on Helena's bare feet as they stumbled through the elegant hotel lobby. He could see the knowing looks out of the corners of his eyes. He tried to rub the lipstick from his mouth and neck but there was no chance of looking respectable at this point. To an outsider, it must have all seemed so simple and obvious.

Who could guess how complicated it really was? No sane person, that was certain.

In the elevator, Howard couldn't avoid looking at his guilty and rumpled appearance. There were mirrors everywhere. He closed his eyes until he felt Helena's head against his shoulder.

"We're not having sex," she said in a quiet but firm voice, "So don't even try it on..."

"I won't."

"I know you're still a virgin, I know you're a bit of a mentalist..."

"I'm sorry."

"I know that, too."

xxx

They sat on the small loveseat by the window of her hotel, Helena leaned against Howard, her hair tickling his nose but he didn't dare move or break the silence.

"Do you still fancy, Mrs. Gideon? I reckon you'd be in if you gave her a call."

"No. I never liked her very much."

"You followed her around for years. You killed her fish with your lovesick tears."

"I'd have run away in terror if she'd given me a second glance," the drink has loosened his tongue and he took a perverse pleasure in exposing himself so blatantly. He deserved derision.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"No, but I can see how someone like you might... You have a lot of layers. I only have two, maybe three."

"There's just the two; the jazzy freak layer covering the miserable coward layer."

Helena laughed and though it stung, Howard didn't even consider moving away.

When her lips found his, he barely dared to breath. He kept his hands at his sides as they kissed, remembering her order to not 'try it on'. 

For nearly thirty-three years, Howard had avoided physical contact whenever possible thinking he could protect himself from pain and rejection. It was time to admit that plan of action wasn't working. 

Helena's lips moved down his neck as her hands moved over his chest and down to his belt buckle.

"Um, Howard... You're looking a little like you're going to punch me. It's putting me off," Helena's voice was gentle but her eyes had a cheeky glint.

Howard looked at his white knuckled fists and tried to relax his hands. He couldn't blame Helena for laughing again. He was a shambles.

Helena placed her hands on the sides of his face and tried to force him to look her in the eyes.

"Howard, look at me. You think I've never been laughed at? With this nose? What did you say Vince looked like? An anteater mated with a hedgehog?"

"You're beautiful."

"Maybe in the right lighting..."

"You are the light!" It was a joke he'd made before and it always made Vince smile. He wanted to kiss that oddly shaped nose but he was wary it would come across as a 'move'. 

Helena climbed into his lap and kissed him again, her hands returning to his belt buckle. Howard tried not to think. His brain was not on his side tonight. Maybe it never had been.

Her hand was incredibly soft and gentle; Howard knew it would be over nearly before it began. As soon as her fingers wrapped around him, it was a losing battle. When he tried to appologize, she silenced him with another kiss until he came a moment later. He felt a mixture of embarrassment and relief but mostly, he felt grateful. 

He looked to Helena hoping she would tell him where to go from here. She was staring down between their bodies with a frown. 

"It's on my dress and your suit. Oi. That is going to be one awkward visit to the dry cleaners." 

xxx

Helena gently but unambiguously sent Howard on his way once he was back in his normal clothes. She insisted on calling him a cab though it was only blocks to his flat.

"You've been drinking and your van smells like Snoop Dogg's tour bus."

He expected to lie awake for hours but he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

xxx

The calm he'd felt the night before had evaporated by the morning. He was sick with worry as he headed downstairs to the Nabootique. He was entirely at Vince's mercy, one cruel word and Howard would have to go live in a cave for the rest of his life.

Vince was already in the shop, talking on the phone.

"C'mon, Naboo, I'm desperate! I'll never ask you for anything again!" Vince pleaded, "Cheers, mate! The blue bottle, third shelf? You're an ace. Oh, and can I borrow your robe with the... Naboo? Naboo?"

Vince hung up the phone with a frown and muttered, "Well, that was rude."

"All right, Vince?" Howard asked, his voice sounding strangled and odd to his own ears.

Vince jumped, "All right, Howard... How long have you been standing there?"

"I just got here. How is Naboo?"

"High as a kite as always. How was your date with my sister?" Vince's face was neutral.

Howard chose his words carefully, "She was wondeful, I made a tit of myself. As usual. I hope she forgives me."

Vince laughed, "She knew what she was getting into, I wouldn't be too worried."

Howard nearly collapsed in relief.

"Vince, remember when we were little and we broke my mum's lamp playing catch in the house?"

"How could I forget? She mentions it every time she rings for you."

"Remember how I blamed you for getting me in trouble and I ripped the collar on your favorite Rolling Stones tee-shirt?"

Vince clutched at his neck as though he were having a flashback, perhaps he was. It had been a traumatizing day.

Howard continued, "I thought that was it for our friendship. I destroyed something you loved..."

"You didn't destroy it," Vince interupted, "Remember? I turned it into a patch for my jean jacket. I still have it!"

"That's what I'm trying to say, Little Man. My mother never even tried to fix the lamp, she just threw it away and she's still angry about it but you saved the shirt. You took what was left and made it into something new."

Vince nodded thoughtfully, "This is like the pencil case story. I have no idea what you're on about."

"I'm saying I'm glad you didn't let me throw away our friendship."

Vince gave him a blinding smile, "We're a double act! Take one of us away and what do you have? Half a person, that's what. I'd never chuck you. And, Howard?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for using the clothing metaphor. It helps me follow when you get all sappy and philosophical."

Howard turned his attention to stock taking. Talking about feelings made his skin itchy but he felt better.

Vince mumbled under his breath but loud enough for Howard to hear.

"And people think I'm the girl in this relationship."

xxx


	7. Chapter 7

"Howard, can I ask your advice on something? Totally confidentily? Confid... You gotta keep it under your hat, it's well personal."

Howard could hear his teeth grinding but hoped Vince didn't notice.

"What's that horrible grinding noise, Howard? Are there some workmen outside?"

"Yes Vince, they're grinding down the curb so less people trip, what did you want to ask me?"

"Grinding down the curb?"

Howard held up a shiny sextant, once his friend was thoroughly distracted by the movement of light, Howard brought him back to his original topic. 

Vince turned red and avoided Howard's eyes, "It's well awkward. I have this friend... He's been my mate for ages and ages... But you don't know him! You've never met! He's... allergic to sunlight so he only goes out late at night so you've never met him and he doesn't come to any of our gigs because his mother was crushed by a poorly assembled keyboard..."

"Spit it out, Vince!"

"So we're good friends, right, and we spend time together and try to pull birds together and then yesterday..."

"He did something that upset you, made you feel uncomfortable?" Howard asked, his stomach twisting.

"We was watching telly and kind of snuggling a little and he started kissing my neck. You know how it is, just friendly stuff," Vince explained.

Howard shook his head to clarify he was not familiar with friends snuggling and kissing necks. True, he allowed Vince to curl up next to him on the couch and maybe Howard had pressed his lips to the top of his friend's head once in a while but that was hardly the same thing!

Howard suddenly realized that he and Vince snuggled and kissed while watching telly.

"And then he asks if he can give me a blowie. While we're watching telly! And it was a good show on and everything!"

"What did you do?"

"I said 'no, thanks for the offer though' but the rest of the evening... You could tell things were off. I'm afraid he's mad at me now."

Howard was hopelessly lost at this point but desperate to get any convoluted message Vince was trying to give.

"Vince, why do you think he made a move like that?"

"I don't know! We were just talking about synthetic fibers and... and other things. Maybe...? And then I did say... All right, Howard. I think I've got it sorted. Cheers!"

"Glad to be of service, Little Man."

Whatever message Vince was trying to send with his little hypothetical story was completely lost on Howard Moon.

xxx

Howard was rearranging his classic jazz records in order of most to least mind-blowing trumpet solos when a thought occurred to him.

 

"Vince, is there any chance the friend who put a move on you was Leroy?"

"How did you suss out... I mean, I don't know what you're talking about, Howard. I told you it wasn't someone you knew."

"Leroy has been in love with you since puberty! He bakes you little cakes and sends you flowers in the middle of the day just to say he misses you."

"What are you on about, Howard? Leroy doesn't fancy me!" 

"There are undiscovered tribes in the Amazon who have never seen the face of a white man who know that Leroy is in love with you."

"You've gone wrong, Howard. You're creeping me out. I'm going to head over to Leroy's and see if I can't get this sorted."

Vince then stood up and threw on his coat as though the work day was over.

"Has Leroy met Helena?"

"Of course he has, they get on like a house of fire."

"On fire."

"What?"

"Never mind. Go sort things out with Leroy. I'll just stay here and mind the shop. Alone. As usual."

"Cheers, Howard!"

Vince was almost out the door before he suddenly turned and ran to Naboo's potion cupboard. Howard shuddered to think what his friend had planned.

xxx

Howard considered giving Leroy a call. He could think of a few good reasons for Leroy's sudden strange behavior. One scenario he imagined was Vince curling up on a couch with Leroy and mentioning that he'd given Howard a hand-job while wearing drag. 

Howard and Leroy had been friends since childhood. They'd bonded over a mutual love of eating dirt and playing army men. As they grew older (and started going to school), their personalities grew more disparate but they had history. When Vince arrived on the scene, Leroy had immediately befriended the strange child who claimed to be raised in the jungle by Bryan Ferry. Howard had been more hesitant, already a cautious man at the tender age of ten, but eventually the Noir charm worked it's way through Howard's defenses. Howard couldn't pinpoint when he and Leroy had stopped being mates but it was suddenly clear to Howard that they were not and hadn't been for a while. The last time he and Leroy had spent time alone together was before the zoo closed/imploded. He felt no more comfortable calling Leroy than he would have felt calling Jacques Le Cube. 

xxx

"You've reached the Nabootique. Trinkets, gadgets..."

"It's me, Howard."

"Helena?" he asked. The difference between Helena and Vince's voices could be subtle. Helena generally sounded like a more serious Vince.

"Yes, it's Helena. I should think you could tell us apart by now. Vince and I are hardly identical any more."

"I'll have you know, Vince has often been mistaken for my beautiful wife or ugly girlfriend, depending on how long it's been since the third person has seen an actual woman."

Helena laughed, "Vince is beautiful, he's just ahead of his time."

Howard was afraid to respond. Of course, Vince was beautiful. Thankfully, Helena filled the silence before Howard was forced to tell her about Stationary Village. When he was at a loss for words around women, he tended to go on about stationary even though he realized, it was generally a non-starter. 

"I was wondering if you'd like to come over."

"Aren't you... When should I come over?" Perhaps he'd already sorted things out with Leroy.

"I'm ready when you are."

Howard hung up the phone without saying goodbye and ran out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

He stopped running a block before he reached the hotel, suddenly aware he might be coming off as a bit over-eager. He needed to keep his cool, be a man's man.

He perhaps should have put on nicer clothes or tried to make his hair look fluffier but then, Helena had an extra suit in her wardrobe. She was more than capable of turning Howard into the kind of fellow she'd take out in public. She was certainly more capable than Howard. After decades of living in Vince's gaudy and glittering shadow, Howard had become what some might be consider to be a bland dresser. He didn't want to look like he tried too hard (or at all). He got enough stares just standing next to Vince. Other than the Hawaiian shirts that jazzed up his quiet wardrobe, Howard preferred muted tones.

It was a confused looking Helena that opened the door, wearing a red and orange kimono.

"You hung up on me. You didn't even say good-bye."

"Howard T. J. Moon is a man of action. When he gets the call, he's on the case. He's coming at you like a beam, like a ray, like a train barreling down the tracks, like a..."

"Get in here, you Northern loon."

Once inside the tastefully appointed hotel room, Howard began to regret his haste. He should have taken a shower, trimmed his mustache, cut his nails, maybe gone to the barbers.

Helena slapped his hands as he stared at them, "Oi, Howard, quit worrying about things that don't matter like cuticles."

"Since when do you not care about cuticles?"

"I care about mine," Helena explained, holding out an elegantly manicured hand for Howard to examine, "but you can be scruffy. It's part of your look, right?"

Howard nodded because scruffy was his look. He'd preferred Helena's version of Howard's look. It was less comfortable but he'd been called 'sir' all night, women had acknowledged his existence and he hadn't once been confused for a tramp. 

"So where shall we go tonight? I understand there is an entirely edible restaurant in Camden. You pay a flat fee for the food and then you nibble the chairs and the bar while you drink," Howard suggested. He thought the idea was repulsive but he'd seen it on the cover of "Cheekbone" magazine. 

"I've been there. It's all right. It looks a bit tatty though, everything being half-eaten or at least nibbled upon. The chandelier was amazing though."

"Crystal?"

"Rock candy. I was thinking we could eat in tonight. I have to go out tonight with Jean Claude later. It would be nice to just stay here until then; have a nice meal, enjoy some good conversation and maybe a little jazz."

Howard laughed but then Helena tapped her Ipod and the room filled with the voice of Billie Holiday.

Helena swayed to the music and quietly sang along, "He ain't much on looks, he's no hero out of books but I love him, yes I love him."

Howard watched the way her sleeves moved as she poured them both a snifter of brandy, exposing her pale wrists. Howard had brandy snifters at home but he and Vince only used them to drink wine when Vince wanted to pretend they were shrinking.

"Howard, look at how tiny our hands are compared to these enormous wine glasses! Oh, the ratio is all off," the simpleton would exclaim.

Howard bit back a smile, Helena was lost in her song, "My man," she gently crooned.

"It's funny," Helena said when the song ended, "It's such a beautiful song about a cheating, woman beating titbox. If a guy ever cheated on me, I'd slice him open like a mango. I'd slice and cube him, offer him up to trendy kids and say it was the newest thing from America, bastard sushi. Then I'd turn his bones into a corset. I'm a cockney bitch, you said it yourself."

Howard counted himself lucky to be in one piece after his boorish behavior the night before and was grateful the next song on Helena's play list was an instrumental. Miles Davis.

Helena continued to sway as she approached Howard with a menu, "They do a good steak, the pastas are delish, the desserts? Sinful."

He could feel her breath on his neck, she was that close. He tried to will the blush from his face but he felt his cheeks burning. The blood not rushing to his face was heading to an equally uncomfortable place, leaving his legs and arms wobbly and hollow-feeling.

"Are you all right, Howard? You're all shaky. Sit down."

Helena gently led him to the bed, touching her cool hands to his forehead, "What's wrong?"

Her blue eyes were wide with concern as she ran her hand along his cheek. She was leaning forward and Howard had a clear view down her kimono. She was wearing a black bra with some kind of fancy trimming. She also had cleavage.

Helena followed his eye line and bit her lip. Howard turned his eyes to his feet and waited to die of embarrassment. He hoped this incident wouldn't be part of Vince's eulogy.

"Howard, we need to be very clear here. I was a man and now I'm a woman. It's okay if that bothers you, you can leave; no hard feelings. We just need to be real clear on the facts."

Howard thought of the bottle from Naboo's cupboard, "Is it... permanent?"

"It's as permanent as any other spell. It lasts until it's broken or reversed."

Howard nodded thoughtfully. His eyes were still on his feet when he saw the kimono hit the floor. Louis Armstrong was singing "St. Jame's Infirmary". It was one of Howard's favorites.

She was clearly all woman, wearing the least practical underwear Howard had ever seen. The black satin bra and panties were embroidered with little pink and white pearls. It was the kind of lingerie that a woman couldn't actually wear under an outfit, the pearls would surely poke through the material and make her look... bumpy. In all his fantasies of being with a woman for the first time, he'd pursued the woman until she eventually fell for his subtle charms. He'd never pictured a woman choosing lingerie for him, planning to be with him.

Helena sang with Louis, "Let her go, let her go, God Bless her, wherever she may roam..."

Howard kissed Helena's stomach, placing his hands on the gentle swell of her un-Vince-like hips. He slowly moved his mouth lower, kissing her through her panties, the stitching scratching at his lips. Nothing Vince-like here. Helena lightly ran her fingers through his hair and sighed. With a hesitant thumb, Howard pushed aside the panties until he saw a hint of curly, blondish hair. Helena whimpered and Howard felt like the king of the world. With a new found sense of confidence, he moved the panties a little further sliding his thumb until he felt a damp warmth. He knew the wetness was a good sign. He'd read plenty of books, pamphlets and the magazines his father kept hidden under his jazz records but he'd never been up close and personal. He kept moving his thumb until Helena let out a breathy laugh. 

"Before you go throwing me across the room, that was a happy noise."

With a mixture of embarrassment and bravado, Howard replaced his thumb with his mouth. She tasted like perfumed soap. 

It was like a jazz trance, he could do no wrong. Maybe it was because Charlie Parker was filling the air with "All the Things You Are". Every movement of his tongue led to happy sighs and moans from Helena (and a few from Howard) so he was confused when she pulled away. His confidence was quickly restored when she pulled off her impractical panties and laid down on the bed. While her legs were spread as invitingly as any heroine in a trashy romance novel (from his mother's book shelf), Howard was unclear about what he was being invited to do. Not wanting to overstep his boundaries, he opted to continue on the same path. Helena tugged at his hair and offered the occasional one word direction, "left", "faster", and "more". He was grateful that Helena made it clear when she reached her orgasm, he'd been a bit worried, and the fact she'd pulled out a small handful of his hair was a small price to pay for that kind of reassurance.

Helena brushed the fine dark hair from her hands, "Sorry about that, Howard. I wasn't really expecting you to catch on so quickly. Have you considered a career as a male prostitute?'

"I briefly had a thriving business thanks to some free advertising from Vince."

Helena laughed, "Howard Moon will bum you silly for loose change!" Helena exclaimed with a crooked grin, "I bet you looked dead sexy in your cowboy outfit."

Howard tried to push the unpleasant memories from his mind of Eleanor. His distress must have read on his face because Helena laid a hand on his chest and kissed his cheek, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable but I'm a little confused. What happened with that lady?"

"I'm not sure. It was dark, there were a lot of motorized appliances involved. It was a very confusing and disturbing time in my life."

"But you and she didn't actually...?"

Howard shuddered, "No. There was no direct physical contact. I agreed to let her kiss my cheek, and she covered my face in lipstick. I'm still not sure if she was a she."

Helena laughed, "Well, good. You're no stranger to gender confusion."

"Not after living with Vince."

Helena laughed and kissed Howard lightly on the lips. As she slid on top of him and deepened the kiss, he ran his hands over her smooth back and wondered how hard it would be to get her bra off. He'd practiced removing bras as a teen but only on Vince (who would always giggle and squirm, saying he was ticklish) so Howard had never gotten very good at it. Vince didn't need to practice. Bras seemed to fall to the ground in the presence of Vince Noir. 

As he fumbled with the clasp, Howard wished he'd practiced more recently. Helena came to his rescue, sitting up and undoing the bra herself. She took her time sliding off the straps before revealing her lovely small breasts. Howard felt a sudden urge to become a sculptor. Such perfection should be preserved in marble for all time. Helena allowed herself to be rolled onto her back so Howard could worship her figure properly. He did his best to keep his erection from pressing against her leg as he kissed and licked her dark nipples. Helena giggled and squirmed ("Your mustache is tickley!") but she remained as patient and gentle as she'd ever been. 

"Thank you," he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

Helena offered a bemused smile, "For what? Letting you ravish me?"

"That and everything else. The suit, not slicing me up like a mango, wearing the fancy underwear."

"It's not underwear, it's lingerie!"

"Thanks for putting up with me. I know I can be difficult."

Helena pushed Howard onto his back and kissed her way down his chest. Howard's eyes rolled back in his head as her lips wrapped around the head of his erection. He tried to think of Eleanor and something that looked like a blender but Eleanor insisted was a 'love toy'. Not even those horrid memories could combat the heat of Helena's mouth or the flickering of her tongue as she moved her lips up and down.

"Stop, I'm going to come," he warned her after three minutes.

"That's the point, sweetie," she explained as she gave his cock a few lazy strokes.

"But I thought..."

"We'll get to that," Helena promised, suddenly serious, "If we do that now, it'll be over too soon and you'll be embarrassed and all this will become an unpleasant memory. I want to be a pleasant memory."

Howard closed his eyes and less than a minute later, he was gripping the sheets and struggling to keep his hips still. When his vision returned, he saw Helena sitting next to him. She looked very pleased with herself.

"Nothing but good memories, right?"

Howard laughed, he felt like a kid again. Not the kind of kid he'd been (all serious and nervous) but like a normal kid. He imagined this was what it felt like to be Vince.

"I love this song!" Helena yelled, jumping up from the bed naked to turn up the volume as Cab Calloway sang about "Minnie the Moocher".

"I'm starving, let's order room service," She returned to the bed, menu in hand and singing, "Each meal she ate was a dozen courses, she had a million dollars worth of nickels and dimes..."

 

Billie Holiday "My Man" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQlehVpcAes

Louis Armstrong "St. James Infirmary" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzcpUdBw7gs 

Charlie Parker "All the things you are" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTORd2Y_X6U&feature=grec_index

Cab Calloway "Minnie the Moocher" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8mq4UT4VnbE


	9. Chapter 9

Howard wore a fluffy white robe, monogrammed with the hotel's initials, as he ate his spaghetti bolognese. The robe was made of the softest material he'd ever felt. It reminded him of the time he nursed Jack Cooper after the fox's scratched paw became infected. The infection had spread quickly and, for weeks, the fox had seemed on the edge of death. Howard spent several nights actually inside the cage, sharing a blanket and body heat with the weakened animal. As a zookeeper, he'd understood that the animals would eventually die and he shouldn't be so involved; He was setting a poor example for the already soft-hearted Vince. As someone who loved animals, he couldn't imagine letting Jack die alone. When Jack finally recovered, weeks of constant petting from Howard had left his fur incomparably shiny and soft. At the time, Howard thought Vince's jealous reaction was due to Jack suddenly having the nicest hair in the zoo and stealing Vince's thunder. Later he came to believe Vince had actually been jealous of Howard's attention. The little man was used to being the most helpless thing in Howard's life and being cared for accordingly. Howard had felt sorry for Vince and had tried to give his friend a some extra attention. Then the little titbox spread the rumor Howard was having 'relations' with Jack Cooper and Howard had to go at him like a Northern Bullet. He'd put Vince into a headlock and noogied the life out of his delicate coiffure.

Helena had again skipped dinner and gone straight to dessert, a large piece of white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake. She tapped her foot along to "Birdland". She's made it clear that this would be the one and only jazz fusion song played in her hotel room and that he shouldn't go begging for "just one more" song by Weather Report or she'd chuck him out the door.

"I wish I could stay longer," she mused as she carefully scraped every morsel of cheesecake from her plate.

"What do you mean? Why can't you stay?" Howard knew he was failing to hide the panic in his voice.

"I have to go home, Howard! Back to work, back to eating proper food. I've probably forgotten all my French by now. They'll be calling me a tourist again."

"When do you have to go back?" Howard thought about her words before. The magic lasts until the spell is broken or reversed. Why should there be a hurry?

"Tomorrow night," she sighed before licking her plate.

Howard's heart broke in half and the pieces fell into his lungs and stopped him from breathing.

But only for a moment. 

"I see. You must miss your old life, old friends and such."

Helena shrugged, "Not really. I'm not close to anyone. It's so hard to find someone you can really trust. You know what I mean."

Howard tried to decipher her enigmatic stare but only one thing came to mind.

"Did... Did you sort things out with Leroy?"

Helena looked puzzled, "Leroy? Yeah, he apologized. I told him it was his one free pass. I've been handing out a lot of those lately."

There was no malice or harshness in her statement, she was just being cheeky but Howard felt he'd been warned. 

"That was good of you, to forgive him."

Helena looked uncomfortable, "It wasn't about forgiveness. I don't blame him for anything it was just out of line how he did it. I mean, you can't blame someone for having feelings, right?"

"Right," Howard agreed, "We can't control how we feel about other people or how they feel about us. And if someone has feelings for you, you can't change who you are just to make that person happy. No matter how kind you are, you can't be everything to everybody."

Helena's eyes were suspiciously misty but she flashed a cocky smile, "Enough talking. I have to be at the club in three hours and I need to work off that piece of cheesecake so I fit in my dress."

"One little piece of cheesecake is hardly going to ruin your figure," Howard clucked, "You look perfect just as you are, a combination of Holly Golightly and Ziggy Stardust."

Helena smiled at the compliment but then frowned sadly, "One piece of cheesecake might do me no harm but look at what I got for dessert!"

Helena lifted the lid from the metal serving try to reveal what appeared to be a punchbowl full of chocolate mousse.

"See, Mr. Moon," she explained as she dipped a finger in the chocolaty treat before bringing it slowly to her lips, "I'm going to need to burn some calories tonight. Chicka-chicka!"

xxx

Helena guided Howard through every step. He hadn't even considered bringing protection but she was prepared. She did all of the work, letting Howard lie back and be amazed (and a bit useless). When she began to lower herself onto him, he saw the wisdom of her earlier decision to hold off. Having had the most remarkable orgasm of his life roughly thirty minutes earlier, it still took all of Howard's self-control not to come the moment he felt her clenching heat. He also found admiring her stunning lithe body and perky breasts as she rode him was also not helping him to last longer than an banana split in monkey hell . The only thing that did help was when she would look into his eyes. The familiar cheeky glint made him feel grounded. It reminded him that he was a man of great passion but also of great restraint. As in the street or when opening a door, the lady must always come first.

Helena loosened her unruly bun, shaking out dark curls on her slim shoulders, "I love this song. Don't you love Ella? To see you through 'til you're everything you wanna be it can't be true but, this time the dream's on me..." When she bent forward to kiss him, her hair brushed over his chest and face, softer than a fancy hotel bathrobe or a well-loved fox. Helena latched onto his neck and sucked hard as she continued to grind her hips. Howard smiled at the idea of having a visible love bite that wasn't a practical joke from Vince. The wretched boy would sweep in on Howard as he slept like a vampire and latch on to his neck. Howard once had to wear a scarf on the hottest day of the year rather than spend the day being asked, "You get that bite from Vincey?" There was no use saying, "Yes, it was Vince but it's not what you think." No one bought that line, it didn't matter if it was true.

Howard tried to memorize every inch of Helena's body as they made love. He would be replaying this in his mind for the rest of his life. When she tossed her head back and bit her lip and whispered, "Oh, for fuck's sake," he filed that image firmly in the happy memory drawer.

The second time was even better. The second time, he was on top and marveled at his new-found ability to make a beautiful woman swear like a sailor. It couldn't be a coincidence that Etta James was singing "At Last" right as their bodies joined. Clearly the gods of jazz were smiling on their union. It was a pleasant change from Howard's normal interactions with the Spirit of Jazz. Those interactions tended to have a rapey vibe that made Howard uncomfortable.

Whenever Howard felt himself coming close to the brink, he would stop moving and lick a bit of chocolate mousse off Helena's shoulder, left there from Helena's rather messy idea of foreplay. For him, it was a lovely excuse to run his tongue along her alabaster skin but he was pretty sure than when Helena licked him back, she was just going for the chocolate. He didn't mind a bit.


	10. Chapter 10

Howard reluctantly joined Helena in a bubble bath. The last time he'd taken a bath with another person, he and Vince had been covering themselves in tomato soup after an nasty incident with a skunk who had fallen in love with Vince's raven hair. For his efforts to rescue his friend, Howard had been rewarded with being scented AND having Vince jump into his soupy bath without permission. It had been hard to resist a naked and beckoning Helena and, all-in-all, this bath was a completely different experience. Unlike his forced bath with Vince, this bath wasn't disgusting and wretched smelling (although the perfumed soap continued to tickle Howard's nose). Also, unlike the small metal trough he and Vince had shared, this bathtub was enormous and made of marble. Even Howard's long legs fit comfortably and allowed Helena room to move. He washed her hair and her back and realized that she'd been right. Sharing a bath could be fun. It didn't just have to be embarrassing and uncomfortable. The fact that Helena had recently come into very close contact with his naked form did little to ease his embarrassment while easing into the tub with her. Now that he was covered in bubbles and Helena, he began to relax. When she insisted on straddling his legs and washing his hair, he nearly fainted. 

"Howard, you can't possibly be ready again!" Helena seemed more incredulous than judgmental as she aggressively rubbed his scalp (stimulating the follicles), her breasts dancing in front of Howard's face (stimulating everything else).

"I warned you I was a man of great passion," he aimed for a teasing tone but was pretty certain he failed. He was going to have to find a pamphlet on pillow talk. It really didn't come naturally to Howard. He felt a near constant urge to discuss stationary.

"Well, I'm a woman who needs to look amazing in just under an hour so I don't have time for your funny business. You'll have to make due with the massaging shower head."

After conditioning Howard's hair with something that looked like it had been sicked up by a cat, Helena jumped out of the tub and began getting dressed. Howard stayed in the tub for another five minutes, until he was allowed to rinse his hair. When he climbed out, he made sure Helena wasn't around and quickly covered himself with a towel.

"I've seen you naked," Helena called from the other room, either a psychic or simply seeing his reflection in one of a dozen mirrors. He blushed but kept covered. He'd been teased in a similar vein by Vince on many occasions, including when Vince had jumped into Howard's shower to wash off the tomato juice from their shared bath. The reason Vince gave for jumping in the shower before Howard was done? "I was bored sitting in the tub alone!"

Once he was dried off, he sat on the unmade bed and watched Helena transform herself. He was able to help a little with her hair but he was useless with everything else, including the tiny clasps on her jewelry. He felt oafish and out of place. It wasn't until Helena was working her way into a skin tight and very revealing red dress that she seemed to notice his discomfort.

"What's wrong, Howard?"

"Wrong? What could be wrong? I'm right as rain, hale as a hail storm, bullier than a blustery day..."

"Enough with the weather metaphors. I need to be in a cab in ten minutes. Tell me why you look sad."

Howard looked in the mirror. Did he look sad? He thought he just looked normal.

Helena's face was suddenly so close to his, their noses bumped together, "Is it because of what we did? Are you regretting it already? I really tried to make it special but I'm just not that romantic, Howard. My first time, I just wanted to get it over with. I thought the jazz and the food..."

Howard silenced her with a kiss because he had no words. He felt embarrassed to realize she'd put so much effort into his deflowering like he was young and innocent girl rather than a cantankerous and barely youngish man. He whispered into her ear so she wouldn't see his face and he wouldn't have to see her laughing eyes, "Thank you, so much. You've been perfect. I expected my first time to be a bit of a joke, like my first kiss but..."

Helena pulled back her head, trying to force eye contact.

"A joke? Your first kiss saved a man's life! That's not a joke, that's fairy tale shit right there!"

"I saved Vince from getting his head lopped off by the husband of some woman he was shagging in a cupboard."

"First of all, they didn't shag. He figured out who she was and ran before she made a move. Second, Vince needs his head, empty as it may be sometimes," Helena continued with an impish smile, "Your first kiss was important and special."

Howard didn't want to argue when Helena looked so sweet but he knew, deep down, that kiss had been a joke. Vince was saving his skin while Howard was falling in love.

Helena bit her lip and looked thoughtful, "I know you don't believe me, Howard, and I don't know what else to say. I know that Vince thought that kiss was special and he'll always be grateful that you were there for him that night."

"I hardly had a choice, did I? I was trapped on a roof by a maniac with a sword and a maniac with an overactive libido."

"You could have refused, just left Vince to figure it out on his own. Told the Shaman that Vince was lying."

"I couldn't have done that..."

"That's what people do, Howard. People turn their backs on each other all the time. No one has ever cared about me..." Helena trailed off as tears filled her eyes, threatening to destroy her make-up, "If I'd been on that roof, I'd have been screwed literally or metaphorically because the only time anyone ever helps me out is so they can fuck me. Again, literally or metaphorically." 

Before Howard could process her words, Helena was across the room and putting on a pair of shoes that had surely been made by the Marquis de Sade. 

"Helena..."

She didn't look up from her shoes and Howard had no idea what to say next so he stayed silent. Once her shoes were on, Helena adjusted her dress in the mirror. The dress was made of carefully placed straps of fabric that made Howard think of a mummy who had fallen on hard times and was now walking the streets for money.

"How do I look?"

"You're beautiful but your dress and shoes look like they're bearing you a grudge."

Helena laughed, "I know. Fucking Jean Claude's designs are beautiful but they are not comfortable," Helena indicated the thin piece of fabric over her breasts, "I'm going to spend all night just trying to keep the twins in place. Still, I promised him I'd wear it and I owe him."

Howard didn't care for the idea of Helena 'owing' anything to Jean Claude.

"I like your other dresses better."

Helena smiled and gave Howard a peck on the cheek, "I like you, Howard Moon."

The dress was not as pretty or playful as Helena's usual choices but there was a lot of skin showing. Helena followed his eyeline and laughed.

"You are a menace to the female sex, Howard Moon."

Helena was thirty minutes late for her cab but her hair and make-up were fairly in tact.

xxx

Howard walked her to her cab, feeling a bit shabby in his old roll neck and cords. Maybe he should let Vince take him shopping. Even as the thought flitted through his head, Howard shuddered in horror. He could imagine himself in latex pants and a Victorian blouse.

Then again, Helena had been able to find clothes for Howard that didn't make him look like Jacobian rentboy.

Helena hesitated before climbing in the cab. Howard took a page from her book and moved his face close to hers. He was surprised at how little he wanted to flee her proximity.

"Is there something wrong, Helena? Please tell me if there's something wrong." He didn't say 'Please tell me if I did something wrong' but he was pretty sure it was implied.

Helena refused to meet his eyes and Howard felt a sudden empathy for Vince. It was pretty frustrating to talk to someone while they looked away. He'd have to make more of an effort in the future.

"I keep thinking of something... I don't know if I should say anything."

"Please, Helena."

Helena gnawed at her lip, too deep in thought to worry about her make-up.

"Don't ever repeat this."

"You have my word as a gentleman."

Helena rolled her eyes, "Swear on Charlie Parker's grave."

"You have my word as a jazz maverick."

"When Vince was fourteen, he asked you to practice snogging and you said no because you wanted your first kiss to be special."

Howard flushed at the memory, "A bit ironic it retrospect."

"The thing is, he wanted his first kiss to be special, too. That's why he asked you."

Howard stood dumbstruck as Helena gave him another light peck on the lips beforing disapearing into her cab and into the night.


	11. Chapter 11

Howard's memories aren't to be trusted. Years of Vince's fanciful remembrances have left his proper memories blurred. When he tries to picture the day Vince asked him to practice snogging, he can't help but remembering himself with long hair (something his father would have never allowed).

He can remember fourteen-year-old Vince with his long, feathered, sandy hair. Howard had already hit 6ft at fifteen but Vince was barely 5'6 and worried he'd never have another growth spurt. They were standing side by side in front of Vince's dresser mirror. There were posters and clippings of rock stars covering every available surface then. It would be a year or two before Vince started painting them on the walls himself.

"D'you think I'll ever get a girlfriend, Howard?" Vince had asked in a small voice as he applied a light pink lip gloss. Vince was madly in love with David Bowie and determined to 'bring androgyny to the kids'. With his poorly applied eyeliner and garish blue eyeshadow, he didn't look so much androgynous and he looked like a teen-aged girl.

"Loads of girls like you, Vince! You just need to make a move and stop clinging to me like you think a bird will bite you if you're alone with her."

"Imagine if a girl did bite me! That would be well kinky. I bet I'd like a kinky girl. That'd be genius."

"So you've gone from wondering if you'll ever have a date to planning on kinky sex? You've gone wrong, sir. I blame the music you listen to."

"So if I listened to Charlie Parker, I'd be a good boy like you?" Vince asked in a sweet voice, his wide eyes peeking up through his fringe at Howard.

Vince had been using that look on Howard since the day they met but lately, it had begun having a new and uncomfortable affect. Howard used to find the look cute and endearing, now it was deeply confusing.

He cleared his throat, "Yes, if you stopped listening to plastic pop, you'd understand that there's more to love than just... the physical. You could learn a lot from jazz."

"Didn't Charlie Parker die from drinking and doing a ton of heroin?"

Howard smacked Vince upside the head for being cheeky. Unperturbed, Vince turned back to the mirror and fussed with his eye make-up.

"If you was a girl, Howard, would you fancy me?"

"Little man, if you start looking any more like a girl, I will fancy you."

Vince blushed, "Like you'd fancy anyone that didn't meet with your dad's approval."

Vince's face disappeared into his hair as he fiddled with his make-up case. Mr. Moon didn't approve of Vince. He hadn't come right out and said it but he'd hinted strongly that he wasn't the right kind of friend for Howard. Howard didn't like to defy his father but Vince was his best friend. He was a bit odd and told fanciful stories but he had a kind heart and he made Howard laugh.

"I'm not a child, I don't let my father make my decisions for me and you can just shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were about to and I'm saving you from an ear-boxing."

Vince threw his arms around Howard's waist, "Thank you, Howard."

"Don't touch me," he snapped. Vince laughed and pulled away.

Howard threw himself on Vince's bed and stared up at a poster of David Bowie. He didn't get what the fuss was about. He thought Bowie looked better without make-up. He said as much to Vince and was soon pounced on by 105 lbs of androgynous fury. Vince tickled Howard mercilessly, his bony little fingers digging into the taller boy's ribs. Howard easily rolled the smaller boy over and pinned his hands above his head. At first, Vince fought back but then he settled into a half-hearted squirm while he looked up at Howard. Vince looked nervous, Howard's heart felt like it would pound out of his chest.

"Howard... I'm worried about kissing a girl. I'm afraid I'll be all drooly and disgusting."

Howard would never admit to having a similar fear but he did have the occasional nightmare about a girl running away in disgust.

"Do you think maybe we should, you know, practice? Together? Like with the bras?" Vince asked, his face face bright red but his eyes locked on Howard's.

Howard let the words sink in. He was lying on top of Vince, holding him down. It would be so easy to take that first kiss, call it practice and never speak of it again. Or maybe it wouldn't have to stop with a kiss, maybe Vince would be willing to do more than kiss if Howard was sweet enough about it. It had been easy enough to sweet talk Vince into wearing Leroy's sister's bra...

"It doesn't work like that, Vince. Your first kiss should be special, not practice."

Howard set Vince free and they avoided eye contact for the rest of the night while they chatted and sang and invented tales of adventure.

xxx

Howard replayed the memory over and over in his mind as he tried to fall asleep. Over the years, he'd tampered with the memory, making Vince look scared rather than nervous. He'd imagined Vince as trying to bargain his way out of Howard's grip with a placating kiss. It had been easier to live with the memory when he imagined himself as a boorish brute manhandling his smaller friend. The idea that Vince might have enjoyed their activities...

It was too big. There wasn't a space in Howard's brain large to house such an enormous revelation.

The fact he finally, truly and thoroughly lost his virginity hours before seemed small in comparison to the idea of Vince wishing his first kiss had come from Howard.


	12. Chapter 12

Vince never showed up for work. Howard spent the day obsessively cleaning and organizing, trying to create enough order in his environment to settle his thoughts. It didn't work.

Helena arrived just as Howard was preparing to close up shop. He knew at once the spell had been broken. Helena again looked like Vince in a dress. Even her make-up lacked its usual finesse. She was dressed in a vaguely nautical mini-dress with a cape-like jacket.

"Hello, Howard."

He rushed over to her but soon realized he had no idea how to greet her after what had transpired the night before. He went with a handshake. Helena laughed and pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Once she was that close, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to give her a proper kiss. She seemed a bit startled but didn't back away. She, of course, knew by now that Howard Moon was a man of great passion. As he deepened the kiss, Howard ran his hands along her hips and backside, trying to pull her closer but she seemed determined to keep a distance. In fact, she was pushing him away.

"Howard, I have a flight to catch. I just wanted to say..."

Howard cut her off with another kiss. It wasn't gentlemanly to interrupt a lady but if this illusion was going to be over soon, he wanted to enjoy every last moment.

"Howard! Get off, will you! You're getting me all wrinkly!"

The words were a bit muffled by Howard's mouth but he got the gist and allowed Helena to speak though he kept his arms around her.

"I'm sorry you have to leave, Helena. These have been the most amazing couple of days in my life. You can't know how much you've meant to me," he was surprised by the husky emotion in his voice. He blamed it on the lack of sleep. Then he pulled Helena in for another kiss.

She had never been so passive in his arms, she was more like a swooning damsel than the tough-talking ragamuffin/fashionista to whom he'd grown accustomed. Even her kisses felt different, more unsure. It was only when he tried to move his hand beneath her short dress that she pulled back again.

"Howard, we don't have time for a shag, I've got to be at the airport..."

Howard pulled her closer, smelling her hair. He'd grown to love to her strong perfume. He'd miss it.

"I just want to be close to you. We don't have to do anything," he explained as he kissed her long, slim neck. She melted a bit into his arms only to stiffen up again as he pulled her hips to his.   
"Well, Howard, it's been really nice but I should get going and all," Helena stammered as she pulled back, smoothing her dress with her hands.

"Is something wrong, Helena? Why don't you want me to touch you?" Howard's chest was getting tight. He'd been such a fool. The need for a Chinese burn was building.

"It's nothing like that, Howard. I just had things I wanted to say and now I've forgotten what it was..." Helena stared at her shoes like a bashful child.

"I understand perfectly," Howard responded with an even tone, "In fact, I wouldn't dream of keeping you. I know you have better places to be."

"Don't do this," Helena cried, throwing her arms around Howard. Howard tried to pull away without touching her.

"Do what, m'lady? I'm just trying to get out of your way."

"I know what you're doing. You're taking everything good that's happened in the last couple days and making it bad. You're going through your mind tank and poisoning all the good memories and I ain't even left yet," Helena's voice quavered and her eyes were filling with tears, "I ain't trying to reject you, Howard. It's just... well, it's complicated."

Helena pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from her sleeve, "I wrote things down..."

Howard pulled the paper from her hand and threw it on the floor, "I don't need any more of your pity, Helena, you can go. No hard feelings, yeah? You've done your good deed for the decade."

Helena tried to hug him again, despite Howard's best efforts to squirm away, "C'mon, Howard, don't be mean to me."

It worked on Howard when he was eleven and it worked on him now. He gently wrapped his arms around his friend, his anger receeding. It wasn't like Vince ever intended to hurt Howard, he just had the mentality of a butterfly. Helena relaxed in his arms and placed a kiss on Howard's neck.

"I really do fancy you, Howard," she whispered before pulling his head down for a lingering kiss.

They both jumped at the sound of the shop door opening.

"Uh-oh," Helena whispered, apparently to herself. Howard reluctantly pulled away away from Helena and turned towards the door, prepared to explain they were just about to close.

Standing at the doorway with a perplexed expression was Helena. Howard turned his head again to the now sheepish looking Helena behind him. Then the world went black.


	13. Chapter 13

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like me?"

"You said you were leaving last night..."

"I was upset. Of course, I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye..."

"I didn't know that, did I?"

Howard felt cold fingers digging into his neck, "His pulse is fine. Make sure he's breathing."

He pried his eyes open in time to see Vince's ear coming towards his face.

"What going on?" Howard asked before his head smacked against the hard floor. Stars filled his eyes. Perhaps he had died and gone to hell and hell was full of well-meaning Vinces.

"Oi! Watch his head, you muppet!"

Howard kept his eyes closed as warm hands, Vince's hands, gently lifted his head. Once he was safely cradled in Vince's lap, he tried opening his eyes again.

"Did I... fall asleep?" he asked.

"You fainted," Helena explained gently, running her cool hand over his forehead.

Looking at the two of them together, the differences were subtle but clear. Helena's jaw was softer, her nose slightly smaller. He'd attributed her more feminine face to good make-up.

Howard tried to sit up but a wave of nausea forced him right back down.

"So," Helena began with a forced smile, "You really thought I was Vince in a dress? The fact I had a vagina didn't tip you off?"

"Yeah, Howard. I know you ain't experienced..."

"Aren't experienced," Helena corrected.

"But the lady bits should have been a dead giveaway," continued Vince, ignoring the interuption.

Howard's mind was still foggy, "But you grabbed the potion from Naboo's cupboard. I saw you. I heard you talking to Naboo."

Helena looked at Vince for an explanation. Vince thought for a minute before asking, "The hair rejuvenation tonic? The blue bottle, you mean?"

Howard nodded, "Blue bottle... Hair rejuvenation?"

"Yeah, I found a gray hair and it was well depressing so I called Naboo. He's a genius."

Helena rolled her eyes, "You dye your hair, why would you need a tonic for a gray hair? That's a waste of magic."

Howard felt more confused by every bossy word Helena aimed at Vince. She certainly sounded like a sister but she had said she used to be a man. He could swear he remembered her saying those words.

"It weren't on my head!" Vince exclaimed.

"Wasn't on your... Wait? Gray hair down there? Already?" she turned to Howard with no small amount of alarm in her eyes, "Did you see any gray hair, you know, down there? You need to tell me if you did."

"You said you used to be a man but now you're a woman."

Helena nodded, "Yes. I was born a man and have spent the last ten years working with Saboo to complete the intricate magic that transformed me fully into a physical woman. You can't just drink a fucking potion! I mean, you can but you just end up a bloke with vagina, tits and five o'clock shadow. Christy, I'm going off men forever. I'll ask Naboo if he has any magic 'lesbian potion' sitting around."

Vince laughed, "Good one, Helena."

Helena glared at Vince for a moment but then her face softened, "Vince, can I have a moment alone with Howard? I really need to catch my flight and I think the man probably has some questions."

Vince and Helena helped Howard sit up, resting his back against the counter. The room spun a little but Howard refused to faint again. Or vomit.

Vince kissed Helena on the cheek and yelled, "Text me when you get home!" over his shoulder as he bounded out of the room. Helena scooted next to Howard and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I was eight when I told Mom I wanted to be a little girl. Ten when Mom took me and left Dad. She thought Dad was a bad influence. I was fourteen when Vince showed up for his yearly two-week visit wearing eye-liner and talking about kissing Leroy and wearing a bra. That was the last time I saw him until this visit. Mom decided he was a bad influence, too. Sixteen when I moved out on my own and learned what the fuck a 'bad influence' really was. Eighteen when I saw a sad old drag queen miming Billie Holiday in club. Her name was Helena Handbasket. Twenty when I had my first consultation with Saboo. Thirty when I showed up at Saboo's office and found it reeking of weed and a tiny shaman sitting in his waiting room said, 'Eh, Vince. What you doing here? Is this for that ballbag at the zoo?' I thought it couldn't hurt to just Google his name, see how he was doing," Helena's voice cracked with emotion, "And there he was, so fucking beautiful and happy and I wanted to hate him but I just missed him. Finally, I caved in and broke one of my rules and sent Vince a message."

"Your rules?"

"Rule one, the past stays in the past. Rule two, never hide the truth about who I am. Rule three, stay away from taken men. I've been breaking rules left and right, apparently."

"Why didn't Vince tell me about you?"

"He probably did and you just thought it was another story. I really don't have time to try and figure out Vince's brain or why he let all this confusion happen..."

"He could have cleared it up at any time," Howard was too befuddled by the recent turn of events (and a possible concussion) to really be angry at Vince.

Yet.

"Or you could have gone to the club with me or looked at his Facebook account," Helena added dryly, "There are pictures of us together all over his page. Or you could have Googled my name. Face it, Howard. You didn't want to know the truth. Now, I really need to go. Leroy's waiting outside."

Howard watched her jump up gracefully and allowed himself to be drug off the floor and onto his unsteady feet.

"So, Vince, Leroy and I are going skiing next month. You should come with us," Helena said casually as she dusted off her dress, "I'm borrowing one of Jean Claude's lodges..."

"You said you forgave Leroy!" Howard yelled in Helena's face while pointing an accusing finger. He hadn't meant to yell, his ears were still ringing a bit from hitting his head.

Helena raised her eyebrows, "Yes, I did. He wouldn't be giving me a lift to the airport if we were still angry at each other."

"But why would you be angry at Leroy for coming on to Vince?"

"I wasn't. I was mad that he called me a man-stealing bitch and said my perfume was too strong and 'whorish'. I forgave him because he was drunk and had just failed to get off with Vince hours before. And he sent me flowers. You should probably see a doctor. I think you've done yourself some harm."

Helena went up on tip-toe to give Howard a final kiss. Feeling the familiar touch of her lips, he realized he was kissing an actual woman. An actual, beautiful, jazz-loving, successful woman who had probably only ever kissed handsome and dashing men who could afford fancy restaurants and expensive hotels. He was kissing a woman who would never have looked at him twice if he weren't the best mate of her estranged twin. A woman he would have been too afraid to speak to if he'd realized she was real. She pulled away with a sad smile.

"Vince was right, wasn't he? I could have never pulled you on my own. You are the Unpullable Howard Moon. Oh well, Howard, this time the dream was on me," Helena said with a tight smile, "Me and Ella."

"I'm sorry, Helena."

"I'm not. Go talk to Vince."

Howard wondered what he should do first: seek medical attention or find Vince and throttle him. He settled on the latter.


	14. Chapter 14

Howard took the stairs two at a time, ready to demand Vince account for his behavior. He was ready to launch himself at the man, full of sound and fury, but Vince didn't respond when Howard knocked on his door. He knocked again. Once more for good measure and then Howard Moon, man of swift and powerful action, opened the door without waiting to be invited in. Vince was curled up on his side, still in his Helena dress but barefoot, his make-up mostly wiped away and his hair down from it's messy bun. There were streaks of mascara down his cheeks from his apparently copious tears.  
Howard laid a gentle hand on his friend's arm, "What's wrong, little man?"

Vince jumped at the unexpected touch, his eyes popping open.

"What'er ya doing, Howard? Sneaking up on me like that? I nearly had a heart attack!"

Howard held his hands out the way he would when trying to make friends with a wild dog, "I didn't mean to scare you, I was just concerned."

Vince tugged out his earbuds and threw his Ipod to Howard, "I've been listening to this depressin' rubbish. This is the kind of music you shag to? Are you mental?"

Howard looked at the screen, it read 'Howard's playlist'.

"Why are you listening to jazz? You know you've got an allergy," Howard asked in a weak attempt at levity.

"Helena said I should listen to it, that I'd understand things better if I did."

"There's a lot you can learn from jazz. These artist have many lessons to pass down."

"Yeah, about wanting to slit your wrists. Why can't these people just meet someone nice and settle down and be happy?"

"It doesn't work like that, does it? There isn't someone for everybody. Not everyone gets to be happy."

"It's the deserted island all over again. You get a chance to make the perfect friend, and you make him a boring ass. You get to create your own girlfriend? She beats you and won't let you see your friends. If Helena had been there, I'll bet every coconut on that island would have been wearing her designs but she wouldn't have been friends with any of them."

Howard ignored Vince's surprisingly lucid and accurate assesment, "Sometimes sadness is beautiful. The pain behind these songs is what makes them great. It makes them lasting and significant. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a bit of happiness to have something real."

Howard felt uncomfortable under Vince's undivided attention. He was tempted to point at something shiny and distract those surprisingly focused blue eyes.

"Helena's like that. Beautiful because she's sad. Or maybe she's sad because she's so beautiful."

"Helena isn't sad," Howard corrected, gingerly taking a seat on Vince's bed, "She's successful, wealthy, attractive..."

"Yeah, but she was born in the wrong kind of body and had a bunch of people like our Mum telling her she was strange and sick. Now she doesn't trust hardly anybody."

"True, Helena's had a harder time than most but look at how she turned out. Fancy restaurants, fancy hotel rooms... She makes fancy dresses like the one you're still wearing now."

Vince frowned down at his navy blue dress, "The zip's stuck. I was going to ask Helena to help me before she left but then I listened to some jazz and got too depressed to care anymore."

Howard supressed a smile at his friend's morose response to some of the most romantic music ever recorded.

"Lie down, I'll get your zipper for you."

Howard quickly found the piece of string blocking the zip and plucked the offender from the garment.

"Watch it, Howard! This is an original Handbag, knicked from the designer's closet. It ain't some frock I picked up at a rubbish sale."

"Rummage sale."

"Whatever. It's an expensive piece of clothing, don't go manhandling it."

Howard eased the zipper down, exposing the back of Vince's lacy white bra.

"Have a go, Howard. You know you need the practice."

Howard gently manipulated the clasp as Vince giggled and squirmed.

"It's like having your bra removed by a swarm of butterflies. You're too gentle. Put a little more Northern workmen into it. Be Lady What's-her-face's lover."

"Chatterly and a man is supposed to be gentle. Hence the term, gentleman."

"You ain't supposed to be a featheryman or a tickleyman. Girls are not made of Dresden China. They do kickboxing and pilates. Helena crushed a beercar with her head for a bet."

Vince stood up to finish divesting himself of his dress, bra and matching panties. Howard both tried to not look and to not not look at Vince as he pulled on a pair of blue y-fronts and a faded rock tee-shirt. The shirt was a bit snug in the chest and Howard was fairly certain he remembered it from when he and Vince were at school.

Vince jumped under his covers and urged Howard to join him, "You still look all white and sickly. Do you reckon you have brain damage?"

Howard kicked off his shoes and removed his hat and cardigan before joining Vince under the duvet, "I'm sure I'm fine. It takes more that a couple blows to the head to keep down Howard Moon! Maybe you should wake me up every four hours just in case."

Vince struggled to find the alarm on his phone, having never attempted to use an alarm clock before, but eventually he had it set for every three and a half hours, just to be safe.

Vince snuggled into Howard's shoulder, "If Helena's not still angry at me, we're supposed to go skiing next month. I was thinking, maybe she can find a girl for me in France. Wouldn't that be genius? You and me never had proper girlfriends before. We could go visit once in a while and leave before they have time to get sick of us and chuck us. I don't know why we didn't think of this before."

"I don't ski and Helena isn't going to be my girlfriend, is she?"

"Why not, Howard? She fancies you, you fancy her. I know she's a bit annoyed right now but I'll make sure she knows it really wasn't your fault."

"She doesn't fancy me, she feels sorry for me. There's a difference."

Vince sighed into Howard's shoulder, "She likes the way you're strange and paranoid. She might be the only other person on the planet that understands you like I do."

"Why did you let me think she was you? What did you think was going to happen?"

"I didn't know you was going to be so thick-headed, did I? Then you hit it off and she really fancied you and I figured it was because you weren't acting all weird with her the way you act around birds, you were just acting weird the way you act with me. The good kind of weird. We talked about you all night after you had dinner the first time. She thought you were like a relic from a long ago time before all men became dickheads. Then when I told her you were still a virgin and hadn't even really kissed someone except to keep me from getting decapitated, she was all intrigued. When I told her about Gideon, she was furious! It was mental. Of course, she was falling off her chair from all the flirtinis at that point but still, she was ready to go defend your honor."

"Weren't you a little concerned what would happen if... well, if..."

"If you made a move? I knew that weren't happening!"

"But Helena made a move."

"And what happened? You threw her across the cab and called her a bitch. I told her you were unpullable. Can we just go to sleep now, Howard? It's been a long day and I have to check you in a few hours to make sure you're still alive."

Howard didn't argue, he stared at the ceiling until Vince began to gently snore into his shoulder, wondering if he'd ever be able to sleep again.


	15. Chapter 15

Howard shot up in bed at the sound of Vince's alarm.

Helena was a real person. It hadn't been Vince at all. Except it had been Vince for a few minutes.

His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, it was painful.

Vince groaned, "What the... Oh, yeah. You okay, Howard? Your brain working all right?"

Howard's brain was not working all right. Hours earlier he'd been pawing at Vince like a mustachioed Pepe Le Pew and now he was sleeping in Vince's bed.

Vince looked unaffected by the turn of events. He was rubbing his eyes sleepily and stretching like a cat.

"What a weird day, eh, Howard? Even for us, that was a strange day..."

"What were you thinking?" Howard yelled, causing his friend to jump in alarm, "Why were you dressed as Helena? Why didn't you stop me..."

But Vince had tried to stop Howard, repeatedly. He'd pushed Howard away but Howard hadn't taken no for an answer.

"It's not what you think, Howard. I was just going to come give a little speech and say good-bye. I thought you'd be all full of poetry, I didn't expect you to try and shag me up against the counter! Lucky Helena showed up when she did or I'd have ended up giving you a blowie just to get out the door without you getting your hand in my pants!"

Howard absent mindedly began twisting the skin on his wrist, trying to organize his thoughts.

"Howard!" Vince yelled, tugging at Howard's hands, "Stop it! There's nothing to be upset about. Everything worked out fine in the end. Sure there were a few awkward moments..."

"Why did you never tell me you had a twin?"

Howard saw Vince's eyes well with tears before his friend rolled over so he was facing away from Howard, "I dunno. Never came up."

Howard lay back down next to Vince. He stroked Vince's hair, gently, again using his best dog befriending techniques to deal with strong emotions.

"Evan was always so serious about everything. Mum never cared when I ran around in dresses. If I'd been the one who was really a girl, I doubt anybody would have noticed. I just wanted her to be happy but I ended up making everything worse for her."

"There's nothing wrong with being you, Vince, and Helena was right to insist on being herself. It may have caused her a lot of grief but it also made her strong."

"I tried to explain to Mum that gender roles were becoming obsolete and sexuality is a continuum and she said I couldn't be around Evan because I was confusing her. I wish it was me that was the girl. Instead of gettin' a divorce, Mum would have just tore down my Bowie posters. Can you imagine if I was a girl? Oh, you'd have been all over me in school. You'd've had me up the duff by fourteen. The shame! I'd have a whole litter of kids now, me figure ruined from all your great Northern babies."

"I beg your pardon, sir, why have I suddenly been cast as the leading cause of teenage pregnancy in England?"

"I remember what you were like back then. Every time I wore a little too much make-up, you looked ready to rip my knickers off."

"You've gone wrong."

"Don't deny it. You were like, 'You know you want it, you cheeky vixen', then you'd remember what was in my knickers and go back to bossing me around."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Howard wondered if he really did have brain damage.

"You can't deny it anymore, Howard. If I was a girl, you would fancy me. When you thought I was a girl, you fancied me. You more than fancied me, you rogered me silly," Vince had rolled back to face Howard, his eyes were still wet but he was grinning, "Ugh. I can just imagine the two of you. 'I'm gonna come atcha like a kestral in the night, they call me Dr. Love, chicka-chicka!' 'Oi, Howard, less talk more action. I've got three appointments after this. And it's 'at you' not 'atcha' cause I talk all posh until I get mad,'"

Howard had to admit Vince did a fair impression of Helena. His impression of Howard was, of course, absurd.

"Did Helena tell you about our...times?" He made no attempt to meet Vince's gaze.

"Oh, yeah. She starts out a bit prudish but after a few flirtinis, she was giving me a blow by blow... of your blow by blow," Vince descended into giggles at his own joke. Howard was mortified.

"Don't worry, Howard, she gave you good marks across the board. She said you were well skilled for a beginner."

Howard couldn't help but smile at that. The idea of being lousy in bed with Vince was one thing, they had history, but the idea of making a fool of himself in front of a near stranger was unbearable. It was the deep fear that kept him a virgin into his thirties.

"Did you know she was planning to be... intimate with me?" He kept thinking about the things Helena had said about Vince. Nothing was adding up. Maybe she had misunderstood.

"I knew she was going to try. I gave her all kinds of pointers and everything -I picked out the lingerie with the pearls, classy but well kinky- but I didn't actually think it would happen. I figured you'd freak out before you saw she was really a girl. When she told me you'd been shagging all evening I said, 'Well, I guess Howard is finally sure you're real and not me in a dress!' She went mental. She had no idea. She... I guess it hurt her feelings because she was trying so hard to make things nice for you and she felt like she was being used... I never meant to hurt her, Howard. She said she was leaving right away and she never wanted to see you or me again. That's why I knicked her dress and tried to pretend to be her. I just wanted to give you a goodbye. I was going to tell her all about it so when she wasn't mad anymore, she could talk to you and you wouldn't be all paranoid that she abandoned you and whatever. I wrote down things she said before she was mad. It would have been a good speech if you'be been able to keep your hands off me."

"I'm so sorry about that, Vince," Howard squeezed his eyes closed, "I kept ignoring you when you said no."

Vince pressed his forhead to Howard's, "Don't appologize, Howard. You know I never mind a bit of Moon loving."

Howard still had his eyes closed but he felt Vince's breath on hisface. He was surprised to feel Vince's lips on his own. He was even more surprised to feel Vince's tongue in his mouth. Vince pulled away all too quickly.

"We still have a few more hours until we need to be at work, we should get some more sleep," Vince suggested. Again, he snuggled up next to Howard.

"Vince, I'm a little confused."

"I know, Howard. I've never minded. Not really."


	16. Chapter 16

Howard woke up alone in Vince's bed, Vince's phone was buzzing the morning alarm.

Howard's last memory was of Vince tongue kissing him before going to sleep.

He certainly needed to see a doctor. There was something very wrong with his brain.

He went through his normal morning routine, hoping to remember the meaning of the word 'normal'. He felt a little more like himself as he walked into the kitchen, only to find Vince, awake and ready for the day. He was sitting in front of a shiny new laptop.

"How would dating Saboo be like pig mating? That don't even make sense," Vince explained to the screen.

"That doesn't even make sense," Helena corrected, "And it's Pygmalion, not pig mating. It's an ancient Greek myth about a sculptor who falls in love with one of his sculptures. Bernard Shaw wrote a play by the same name. It was turned into 'My Fair Lady'."

Vince thought for a moment, "Is that the one where the guy turned a cockney girl into Audrey Hepburn?"

"That's the one."

"Genius. So you and Saboo should go out, be like Pygmalion."

Howard walked quietly across the room and looked over Vince's shoulder. He was surprised to see Helena on the screen. She was wearing a kimono and drinking a cup of coffee. She looked exhausted. Helena suddenly jumped.

"Oi, Vince! You said he was still asleep. Don't look, Howard, I don't have any make-up on, my hair's a mess... This is why I hate Skype."

Howard moved out of the way.

"Howard don't care about make-up. He sees me without my face all the time."

Howard decided to leave the twins to their conversation. If Vince was trying to convince Helena to date Saboo, clearly he'd given up on the idea of Howard being Helena's steady beau. Helena had probably set him straight on the subject already.

He made his way down to the shop. He found a a clothing bag lying on top of one of the counters. Inside were the two suits Helena had ordered for him. There was a note attached that read, "They were clearly made for you. Take Vince somewhere classy. xxx Helena".

Vince/Helena's cape/jacket was in a ball on the floor. Howard vaguely remembered Vince shoving it under his head at some point. As he bent to retrieve the article of clothing, he spied a wrinkled piece of paper nearly tucked under the counter.

It was Vince's speech, the one Howard had literally ripped from his friend's hands. Vince had been trying so hard to be kind and Howard had been too full of wounded pride to see it.

He smiled at the combination of Vince's childish scrawl and Helena's cynical words.

Dear Howard,

Just about every man I've ever met has been a useless berk. It started with my father who was too weak to stand up to my mother. Maybe it started in the womb with an empty headed brother who would spend his life sucking up all the good luck and leaving me with all the bad. Then there were the useless judges and the social workers who deferred to my mother like giving birth to me made me her property. Every guy after that was either trying to get up my skirt or trying to hide behind it. Weak, useless, stupid men as far as the eye can see. There are four exseptions.

1\. Saboo. He looks like Jimi Hendrix and acts like Ward Cleaver but the man takes his job well serious. I learnt a lot from him about myself and who I wanted to be, not just as a woman but as a person in general.

2\. Helena Handbasket. He was a tired old drag queen with a mouth like a sailor but when I asked him why he kept miming dusty jazz tunes when the people wanted to hear ABBA, he said he fucking hated ABBA and if he wanted to make people happy, he'd have become an accounts manager like his parents wanted. He made me realize there was no point in trying to make most people happy because most people like their drag queens to mime ABBA.

3\. Jean Claude Jaquitte. Yeah, he makes me wear dresses than make me look like some kind of hooker mummy

Howard was certain those were Vince's words, not Helena's.

but he took a chance on me and he's been there for me ever since. He's loyal and though I owe him my career, all he ever asks in return is that I wear his dresses once in a while. Even in the fashion world, it's possible to find an awthentick and decent person. 

4\. Howard Moon. Jazzy Northern Freak. Maverick. Doesn't try to fit in, doesn't want to be like anyone else. Has a best mate who dresses like a futuristic prostitute.

Definitly Vince poking through.

I felt more comfortable with you than I've felt since I was a little kid. Since before I knew feelings could be called wrong. Being with you made me feel young and full of hope. I feel like I stockpiled enough happiness in a long weekened to get me through the next five years. I like how you're old fashioned and how you take things seriously. I love how you try to be important and substanshul.

Howard smiled at the abysmal spelling, the words were getting a bit blurry but he refused to acknowledge the tears in his eyes.

You're speshul, Howard, and I know most people don't see it but when they do, they feel speshul too. It's like how there are only a couple people who like Charlie Mingle so they all feel speshul because they hear something other people don't.

That wasn't Helena.

I hope that when you listen to your sad jazz songs, you smile sometimes because you're thinking of me. You look good when you smile. You're well handsome.

I'll always remember what you said about how you can't be everything to everyone, no matter how kind you are. Maybe we can't be together forever like in a farey tale but we can be something speshul to one another, always. I was your first girl and you were the first boy who mattered.

Goodbye, Howard.

Helena

Howard knew he'd need to write a letter to Helena. A proper letter on pen and paper, maybe he'd use candlewax to seal the envelope. He'd tell her how much he admired her strength, grace and kindness and when some idiot wearing two different kinds of shoes and a Jacobian ruff was hitting on her at a bar, she could remember there was one old-fashioned fool out there who understood that she was a classy dame.

First, he needed to get something cleared up.

xxx

"There's a difference between being fashionable and just being trendy, Vince. Throw away the Jacobian ruff!"

Vince was still chatting away with Helena. Vince looked up.

"All right, Howard?"

"It's safe, Howard, I've got my face on," Helena called from the screen.

Howard nervously smoothed his hair before moving beside Vince.

"I'm sorry to interupt the two of you but I found this," he held up the piece of paper and Vince groaned, "I think I should say something."

"Oh, Howard, throw that away! Helena said her goodbye, she already told you all that stuff, I'll bet."

"She left out the part about her useless and empty headed twin stealing all the good luck in the world and leaving her with the bad."

Helena's eyes filled with tears, "Vince! You don't think that I... Oh, Vince, you big muppet."

"I just meant I was never any help to you..." Vince explained, actually looking bashful for once in his life.

"You... My god, there was never ever ever a time that you didn't accept me for who I was. Even now, no matter how drunk you got on flirtinis, you never slipped and called me Evan."

"I'd have called you Helena when we was kids but I didn't know that was your real name yet."

"Were kids and I know you were following me on-line years before I reached out to you because you dyed your hair black right after I did. I'll admit that sometimes I resented you for being so damned likeable and happy but that's nothing compared to the love I feel for you. You deserve to be happy and I would never get in the way of your happiness. Ever."

Vince threw a nervous glance at Howard, "But if I already told you I was happy and it was fine..."

"Not on your life, little brother. Go throw away that ruff, I'll have Leroy keeping an eye on you."

With that, Helena disapeared.

"What was all that about?" Howard asked.

"You tell me! Why'd you bring up that letter? That was embarrassing!"

"Ah, but doesn't it feel better to know the truth? You can't keep your feelings bottled up inside or you'll end up like me and there's only room in this world for one Howard Moon."

Vince sighed and gave Howard a reluctant smile, "I guess you're right, Howard. I guess I do help her in a way."

Vince suddenly looked serious and chewed his lip nervously, "Um, Howard? You'd want to know the truth, too, right?"

"Of course, little man."

"I don't think you and Helena are going to end up dating."

Howard ruffled Vince's hair, risking life and limb to do so, "I already knew that. Helena is a sophisticated woman who moves in sophisticated circles. You're the only one who ever thought she'd fancy me."

Vince chewed on his nails and remained silent as he followed Howard down to the shop.

"I do have one question, Vince," Howard asked as he began his daily routine of standing around waiting for non-existant costumers to arrive, "Why on earth would Leroy call Helena a man-stealing bitch?"

Vince turned pale, "I have no idea. Leroy's mental. He probably thought... I'm going to go clean the stock room."

Vince turned on his heel and ran. Vince doing work? There was some bad ju-ju in the air and Howard Moon was on the case.


	17. Chapter 17

Howard followed Vince into the store room.

 

"I didn't think you knew we had a store room. Do you even know what stock taking means?"

 

"Not really," Vince admitted, avoiding Howard's eyes, "But I should probably know. Just in case."

 

"Is this about Leroy? I thought the two of you had worked things out." As the words left his mouth, Howard realized it was Helena who had worked things out with Leroy.

 

"Leroy's fine. Everything is fine, so stock taking. What is that, exactly?"

 

He put his hand on Vince's shoulder in what he hoped was a manly and reassuring manner, "Vince, tell me what's going on with Leroy, yeah?"

 

Vince stood pigeon toed, staring at his feet, "He's fine. He said he fancied me but he knows I don't feel that way about him but if I ever get lonely..."

 

Howard laughed at the idea of Vince being lonely but the laugh died in his throat when Vince looked up at him, an oddly serious expression on his pointy face.

 

"Why would he think you'd be lonely? You're the Prince of Camden! Is he worried about Helena stealing you away? Is that why they had a row?"

 

"That's probably it, you've figured it out, Howard," Vince said quickly, picking an item from a shelf, "Now what is this supposed to be? Toilet paper for a shrew?"

 

"That's the paper for receipts. You have never done a lick of work in this shop, have you?"

 

"Not really, no. Do you reckon I could get a shrew to use toilet paper if it were available in his environment?"

 

Howard took a moment to look at Vince. He was wearing the red shirt (blouse, really) he'd worn when they were trapped on a deserted island. While Howard's clothes had turned to rags, Vince's clothes were still wearable today. Vince had always seemed to live in a magic bubble of happiness, it was hard to reconcile what he'd learned about Vince's childhood with the image he'd always had of the Sunshine Kid. Like Helena, he had often resented Vince's endless luck but the resentment was nothing compared to the love.

 

"Vince... It's okay if you want to go spend time with Helena. You don't need to worry about leaving me and Leroy behind. I've got my jazz records and the shop, I'll be fine."

 

"What are you talking about, Howard?" Vince continued to stare at the roll of receipt paper but there were tears in his eyes.

 

"I'm saying I don't mind if Helena steals you away, as long as you come and visit once in a while," Howard tried to keep his tone light. He did want Vince to be happy. He wanted Vince to be with his family. He wanted to throw his arms around Vince and demand the little man stay at his side forever but that was a selfish thought that needed to be stomped into dust.

 

"Helena don't want me in Paris! They are well snobby there, I'd be embarassin'! You've gone wrong in your mind tank, Howard. You're worse than Leroy."

 

That's when things started clicking into place. He thought of Vince's gentle but romantic kiss the night before, his assurance that he didn't mind Howard being 'confused'.

 

"Vince, I know the last few days have been, well, confusing."

 

Vince nodded so enthusiastically that his big eyes rolled around a bit in his head, making him look like an actual muppet, "Well confusing."

 

"When I thought Helena was you... At first I thought it was some strange lark, then I thought it was an elaborate joke..." Vince tried to interrupt but Howard kept going, "and then I thought it was... I thought you were trying to be a good friend. I never thought you actually had romantic feelings for me."

 

"Never?" Vince looked mildly confused, probably a result of the vigorous head-shaking.

 

"Of course not! I've been inside your brain, Sonny Jim. I know you don't fancy me, your brain cell told me himself," Howard aimed for a matey tone, suddenly wishing he had more 'normal' male friends, "You're the confuser. Sometimes people like Leroy and... Leroy are going to are going to have feelings for you that you don't return. You can't be everything to everybody, little man. It's enough to just be you."

 

Howard could feel himself blushing from his hairline to his sock and sandal clad feet but he forced himself to give Vince a manly hug and walk away. Vince needed to make his decisions for himself, not because he was trying to spare the feelings of all the lovesick people in his wake. Now if Vince would just let the topic drop...

 

"Howard..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Did you really never think I fancied you, not even a little bit?"

 

There had been a few times when Helena had brushed Howard's hair from his face with such affection...

 

"Not for a moment," Howard lied, "I've always known you and I were just pals."

 

"So when I said, 'I really do fancy you, Howard', you thought..."

 

"I was getting a polite brush-off from 'Helena'. I won't try to pretend I didn't have a hard time letting go of the illusion but..."

 

"I really do fancy you, Howard."

 

Howard closed his eyes before Vince's lips met his. He remained passive as Vince deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking at the roof of Howard's mouth.

 

"I've always fancied you," Vince whispered in Howard's ear, "but I never said anything to Helena, that was Leroy. He was the one who said she shouldn't try to steal you from me."

 

Howard ran his hands through Vince's fine dark hair, grateful for the lack of root boost. He missed the days when he'd been allowed to touch Vince's hair.

 

Vince kissed his way along Howard's jaw before speaking again, still in a breathy whisper, "I told her you liked girls... or at least that's what you wanted to like and how you want to be with someone smart and sophisticated like her or Gideon but she wouldn't listen to me."

 

Howard captured Vince's lips with his own, wrapping his arms loosely around the smaller man, trying not to wrinkle his shirt. Helena's teeth had felt so neat and even, not at all like Vince's. There was nothing neat and even about Vince. He groaned when Vince pulled his mouth away.

 

"She was always the smarter than me. She could tell how I was trying to make everything perfect for your first time and keep her from letting you mess things up... And I know she told you about the rooftop being like a fairy tale even thought that was supposed to be a secret between her and me..."

 

Vince trailed off as Howard nibbled at his ear, he was hard against Howard's thigh. Howard moved his leg just a bit, to give Vince a little friction, and was rewarded with a strangled moan. Vince's next kiss was harder, more desperate than any other kiss they'd shared.

 

When he finally pulled back, Howard gasped, realizing he'd been holding his breath. He felt out of his depth. It had been easier with Helena who, even in the midst of love-making, always kept a level of cool detachment. Vince's kisses were raw and messy.

 

"I told her I was happy just being your best mate and having the odd snuggle, I didn't mean to mess things up for you."

 

Howard slid his hand inside Vince's red blouse, the way he'd imagined doing a million times on that island, and caressed the flat stomach underneath. He wondered if Vince had gone on the G.I. diet for the same reason he'd died his hair black, to look more like Helena.

 

Vince's hands were at Howard's belt buckle, "She said that I... I didn't understand most of it, really, but she said that it was more important that I loved you than that I wasn't a girl."

 

Vince pushed Howard up against a bare patch of wall before dropping to his knees. He watched in stunned silence and Vince pulled Howard's erection from his pants. After a few experimental licks, Vince began sucking Howard off with a vigor that made Howard's knees buckle. There was very little blood left in Howard's brain for things like thinking but he did notice that while Vince was more eager and aggressive than Helena had been, he also seemed less experienced. He gagged and coughed a few times, constantly moving to find the perfect angle. Howard barely had time to warn Vince before his orgasm hit him like a freight train. He only opened one eye just enough to look at Vince and make sure his friend wasn't going to be ill. Vince was staring at Howard's still throbbing cock while bitin his lower lip.

 

Howard wanted to say just the right thing, something that would let Vince know that theirs was a rock solid friendship that couldn't be shaken and it could come in any form that made Vince happy.

 

"Vince... wow."

 

"All right, Howard?"

 

"Very, very, very all right, Vince."

 

"Good," Vince tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, "So... do want to go upstairs?"

 

Howard Moon often failed to be the man he wanted to be but, at times, he really was a man of action. He tried to gently guide Vince up to their flat but when the smaller man had trouble negotiating the steps fast enough in his platform shoes, Howard picked him up and carried him the rest of the way.


	18. Chapter 18

Howard hesitated at the top of the stairs.

"My room, I've got everything we need," Vince suggested.

Howard was glad he'd left Vince's door ajar, otherwise he'd have had to break it down before tossing Vince on the bed.

"You made my bed! It's like we're back at the zoo. You'll have to sleep in my bed all the time now..."

Howard thought that sounded like a wonderful idea.

Undressing Vince was a task and a half. Howard nearly fell over trying to yank off one knee high boot and Vince's drainpipes refused to come off without a fight. Vince giggled the whole time, occasionally covering his face with his hands.

"Something funny, little man?" Howard's tone was light but he was beginning to feel self-conscious.

"I'm sorry, Howard," Vince giggled, "It just makes me laugh."

"We're heading down a bad path here," Howard warned, his old friend paranoia creeping into his brain like an earwig.

"When I was ten, you paid me a pound to eat dirt!"

"Yeah? And you tried to get me to give you twenty euros to eat dirt last week. Called it inflation."

Vince, now only wearing his red blouse and pair of skimpy red pants, curled up on his side and buried his head, "Oh, it's embarassin'!"

Howard sat on the bed next to Vince, placing a hand on the younger man's hip, trying to think of a way to make the situation less awkward. He was not in his wheelhouse.

"I'm sorry, Howard," Vince mumbled into his pillow, "I'm just nervous is all."

"I've seen you naked before," Howard teased, his voice sounding strangely rough to his own ears, "Remember when you fell asleep on your straighteners?"

It was the wrong thing to say, now Vince's face was buried under two pillows.

Howard used his thumb to nudge down the side of Vince's red pants and reveal the still healing scar. He clearly remembered the way Vince's scream of pain had awakened him from a sound sleep and shaken him to the core. He'd run into Vince's room to find his flatmate half-naked, drunk and confused; asking Howard to 'make it stop hurting'.

Howard had spent the night covering the burn with cold cloths and applying balms. After Vince fell asleep, Howard had pressed an affectionate kiss to his friend's forehead. It had seemed a rather bold move at the time.

Howard pressed his lips to the healing scar, jumping back when he heard a moan muffled by pillows.

"I'm sorry, does it still hurt?"

Vince pulled his head from beneath the pillows, his dark hair sticking up in every direction, "It don't hurt. I was just, you know, moaning."

Howard flushed.

"See, it's going to be weird. You've seen me naked but you ain't seen me all," Vince used a high pitched and girlish voice to continue, "Oh, Howard, give me more..."

Clearly Vince was joking but the "Oh, Howard, give me more..." sounded quite good to Howard's refined ears. He would happily buy a twelve disc set of Vince moaning his name.

"You didn't seem embarrassed downstairs when you..." Howard trailed off.

"That was different."

Strangely enough, Howard understood. He tugged at Vince's hip, urging the smaller man to lie on his back as Howard's lips returned to the faded scar. He only pulled the pants down as much as he needed to see the entire scar, leaving the rest of Vince covered for the moment. It was only when he felt Vince's fingers running through his hair that Howard began moving his mouth towards the bulge threatening to break through Vince's tiny red underwear. As Howard pressed a gentle kiss through the material, Vince gave a happy sigh and wiggled helpfully as Howard pulled the pants off all together, leaving Vince in nothing but his blouse.

He kissed Vince's sharp hip bones, his soft inner thighs and everywhere in between, making Vince squirm and spread his legs wider. The hair between his legs was as soft and shiny as the hair on Vince's head. Howard thought of the hair rejuvenation potion for the gray hair 'down there' and chuckled.

"Don't laugh!" Vince whimpered, again covering his face with a pillow. Howard wasn't sure Vince would hear his apology so he showed his contrition by taking the head of Vince's cock in his mouth. His friend's legs wrapped around him like a vice as Vince groaned into the pillow. It wasn't as easy as it looked. Howard ran his tongue up and down Vince's length, getting it wet, until his lips could move easily move over the erection, nearly taking its entire length. He was convinced with a little more practice and some research...

Vince's fingers went from gently stroking Howard's hair to roughly pulling, dragging Howard's head upwards. Before Howard had time to formulate a question, he had an answer and some of it was in his hair.

Vince pushed himself up with one hand while the other covered his mouth, "I'm sorry, Howard! Oh, you look like something out of 'Tromboner' magazine."

Vince pulled off his red shirt and, in a rare moment of pure sartorial self-sacrifice, used the garment to clean Howard's nose and left cheek. Vince was flushed and laughing, his blue eyes so full of merriment that Howard wanted to kiss him.

If the thought had occurred to him yesterday, he would have buried himself in a mundane task until it faded. It was hard to break a habit of two decades.

"Are you mad, Howard?" Vince asked nervously (doing his best to clean Howard's hair) causing Howard to snap out of his reverie.

He pounced on Vince, holding him down and kissing him thoroughly. He wasn't angry but he'd certainly gone mad. Howard's clothes came off easily, clearly not as enamored of their owner as Vince's clothes had been. Admiring Vince's long, pale limbs, Howard couldn't blame them.

Vince languidly returned Howard's hungry kisses, occasionally murmuring things like, "Nice," or simply making contented noises. When Howard lapped and sucked at Vince's dark nipples, so often seen poking from jumpsuits and see-through shirts, Vince giggled and said, "nipples." Howard had spent years fantasizing about lying in a bed on top of a naked Vince but he'd always been a bit fuzzy on the details. He didn't want to make any assumptions.

"Vince," he whispered in his friend's ear, "I'd like to... that is to say, if you don't mind..."

He could feel Vince holding his breath as he spoke and couldn't summon the nerve to finish his thought.

Vince fumbled through his nightstand and pulled out a small tube of lubricant. Howard watch in stunned silence as Vince coated his fingers and reached between their bodies, preparing himself.

"Quit lookin', Howard. I can't relax if you look. Kiss my neck some more, I liked that."

Howard happily latched on to Vince's neck as he blindly fumbled with the small tube. Once his hand felt sufficiently slippery, he batted Vince's hand away and began moving his own fingers over Vince's entrance. One finger slid in with surprising ease; Vince moaned and dug his nails into Howard's back.

"Have you done this before?" Howard asked as he carefully inserted a second finger.

"Oh, fuckin' hell... What? Oh, no. Not really."

"Not really?" Howard looked Vince in the eye until his flatmate looked away, his cheeks pinking.

"I chickened out. I won't this time, though."

Howard wiggled his fingers, stretching Vince a little more and making him swear like a sailor before working in a third finger. As he began moving his fingers in and out, Vince began moving his hips in a counterpoint motion. It was such an obscene sight, Howard could have easily finished himself off right then and there.

"Now, Howard. There's johnnies in the drawer."

Howard struggled to open the foil packet with his slippery fingers and was happy to let Vince take over. Vince ripped the packet open with his teeth.

"Lie down," Vince ordered with a grin, "I've got a trick to show you."

Howard followed orders as Vince put the top of the condom between his lips. While holding Howard's cock firmly with one hand, Vince used only his lips to slide the condom over the shaft, taking Howard's length deep down his throat. He adjusted the condom with his hand as he looked to Howard with a beaming smile and wiggling eyebrows.

"That's quite a trick, Little Man." Howard felt a twist of jealousy in his chest, wondering where Vince had picked up that particular skill.

"I learned that at a safe sex lecture at college. I've been waitin' to try it out for years. Genius, innit?

Howard pushed Vince back down on the bed, moving between his long legs. He slicked his condom with a little more lubricant before he made his first attempt to push inside.

Nothing happened.

Vince giggled and reached down to grab a hold of Howard, spreading his own legs a little wider. With Vince's guidance, Howard began the slow process of entry. Feeling his friend's entire body stiffen, he stilled his hips and kissed Vince thoroughly. When he felt his partner's body relax, he began pressing deeper. The heat and clench of Vince's muscles was enough to make his eyes roll back in his head but he needed to remain focused for his lover's sake (and safety). It wasn't long before Vince tensed up again.

"Keep going, it's all right."

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, I'm just being a baby."

"Do you want to stop? We can stop. I'll stop."

"I never want you to stop."

Vince wrapped his legs around Howard and urged him deeper. Sweat was dripping from his forehead and burning his eyes as Howard stared at Vince's face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"More, Howard, more. Oh, fuck me, more. Right..." Vince shifted a little beneath Howard, "right there. Right there."

Howard followed Vince's porny instructions until his friend was groaning and digging his nails (rather painfully) into Howard's back. Each thrust was blindingly intense.

"Wanted this for so long," Vince mumbled into Howard's mouth between sloppy kisses, "So good. Love you. So much."

Now that Vince was clearly past his initial discomfort (and moaning obscenely in his ear), Howard was finding it harder to stave off his own orgasm. He didn't want to resort to thinking about Old Gregg with Vince so, instead, he began working Vince's cock to help the younger man along. He was rewarded by having his hair pulled as Vince cried, "For the love of Jagger," in his ear. Vince came with his face buried in Howard's shoulder.

Since puberty, Vince had been torturing Howard with his mixture of sweet-natured innocence and uninhibited sexuality. For the few minutes between Vince's orgasm and his, Howard finally indulged fully in his desire to snuggle Vince whilst bumming him silly. Vince continued to moan and whimper encouraging and smutty endearments as Howard felt his orgasm build. Vince was holding the hair back from Howard's face, staring so intently that Howard felt like he was under a spotlight. When he came inside Vince, he felt the weight of twenty years of confusion slipping from his shoulders and he collapsed into a sweaty, panting and boneless heap on top of his oldest and dearest friend. He could have happily stayed in that position for the rest of his life but Vince was speaking. The words seemed to take an extraordinarily long time to go from his ears to his brain and to then be processed into a meaningful thought.

They'd left the shop open and unattended for what must have been two hours now.


	19. Chapter 19

Howard cleaned off quickly before jumping into his clothes and running downstairs to the shop. As long as no trouble makers (or heinous monsters from a child's nightmare) had wandered into the shop and caused problems, Howard would be able to lock the door, turn the sign to read closed and head back upstairs...

He smelled weed. Hesitating on the stairs, he pleaded to a vague idea of a deity that the smell was coming from some trouble-making school kids.

"Howard, you berk, I can hear you on the stairs!" yelled a lisping South London Shaman.

Howard took a breath and ran a hand through his hair, noticing a certain crunchiness that made him flush. He reeked of sweat and semen but there was no turning back now.

"Hey, guys!" he called cheerfully as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "I just had to pop upstairs for a few minutes..."

Naboo glared up at him, "Bollo and I are on our third bowl already."

"So you've been here five, maybe ten minutes." The joke failed to land, Naboo looked irritated.

"What are you two ballbags doing, leaving my shop open?" Naboo demanded. His eyes were red and heavy-lidded but still oddly fierce, "There is valuable shit in this place. I'm trying to run a business here!"

"I'm sorry, Naboo," Howard apologized, "Vince and I were..."

Howard heard the shower turn on upstairs.

"...we were having a satsuma fight and, um..."

Bollo leaned forward and sniffed the air, "Harold smell like shame and semen."

"It's not shame," Howard snapped, "perhaps just a bit of embarrassment."

Naboo and Bollo groaned out loud.

"Oi, that is disgustin'."

"Bollo think he be sick."

Howard shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, wishing Vince were at his side instead of upstairs showering. When Vince did come down, there wouldn't be a damning trace of Howard left on him and Howard would still be alone.

"It's nothing personal," Naboo explained, his pallor paler than usual, "It's just that Vince is a beautiful man with a beautiful soul..."

"A precious flower," Bollo added.

"Yeah, a precious flower," Naboo continued, "and you're a big creepy ball bag with a Tom Selleck mustache and shifty eyes. It don't make for a good mental image."

"You make a fair point, sir," Howard acknowledged and then he went to work.

XXX

By the time Vince joined them, more than two hours later, Howard had come to the realization that what had happened between them was just one of those things that occasionally happened between heterosexual males who spend too much time together. It didn't mean anything and it certainly wouldn't happen again. They'd go back to being mates like always and never, ever speak of what had transpired.

"But he said he loved you. He said it twice", whispered a small and hopeful voice from deep inside Howard's brain.

"Yeah, and he spent a good hour scrubbing himself clean of you in the shower. Now he's hiding from Bollo and Naboo because he's ashamed about what you've done," whispered a far more cynical and familiar voice, "What he let you do to him. What you pushed him into doing."

He didn't turn when he heard Vince yell, "Naboolio! How was your trip? Good to see you, Mr. Bollo."

Vince embraced his friends warmly. He'd changed into a pair of red leather pants, an artfully shredded tee-shirt and a black denim jacket; his punkish look at odds with his bright and sunny attitude.

"Things got a bit outta hand. Dennis was loping heads off left and right and Tony Harrison tried it on with every one of them. It was disgustin'! Food was good, though. How was your visit with Helena?" Naboo asked.

Howard could feel the heat coming from Vince's face, the younger man hadn't so much as glanced at Howard since coming downstairs.

"It was genius! She's amazing. She gave me this great new eye-liner. Guaranteed not to run. Jagger could do a cabaret show in Vegas and this liner would withstand my tidal wave of tears. We're going skiing next month, you guys should come! Leroy's coming and maybe Howard..."

Vince shot Howard a questioning glance but looked away before Howard could respond.

"That's right. You said on Twitter that Helena and Howard were shagging..." Naboo began as Bollo groaned, apparently feeling ill again at the idea of Howard having sex, "and now you and Howard are shagging? I don't want to sound judgmental, but that is wrong and sickenin'."

"It weren't at the same time!" Vince exclaimed, "No overlap. Helena was just explaining to me why it was all right. I tried to write it down but she talks so fast and sometimes she uses big words."

Howard watched Vince pull a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Naboo and Bollo gathered round to read and made noises of agreement. Apparently, Helena had made a cogent argument.

"When you look at it that way, it's not that 'orrible but it's still put me off lunch," conceded Naboo.

Vince re-folded the note and tucked it back into his jacket.

"Hmm, Bollo could use a falafel."

"I am a bit peckish," Naboo agreed, never one for internal consistency, "If you two decide to have it off again, at least lock the door."

Vince and Howard stood side by side in silence until it became unbearable (roughly two minutes).

"Can I see what Helena said?"

Vince handed him the paper without looking in his direction, "I know there's some spelling mistakes and I'm not sure what she meant about the porpoises."

Howard scanned the paper, "I think you'll find she said for 'all intents and purposes' not 'porpoises'," he clarified.

For all intents and porpoises, Howard has only ever been with you since he thought I was you when we were to together. In his mind Helena was nothing but an illusion a bit of FM aura allowing the two of your to express your feelings...

Howard said "FM aura" aloud and decided Helena had probably meant ephemera.

"Why did you write this down? Why did you call Helena?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Vince's childish scrawl.

"When you didn't come back upstairs, I figured you were down here trying to figure out how to chuck me again."

"Naboo and Bollo were here, I had to stay..."

Vince rolled his eyes and crossed the room, tossing himself into a chair, "I know what you were doing, Howard. I only let you think you're the brains in this outfit."

Howard felt a stab of guilt at Vince's dejected tone.

"We have to be reasonable about this, Vince, think about the long term, yeah? I'm a serious man. I like tweed and jazz and right now I wish you'd take your feet off that table. I just cleaned it."

Vince defiantly left his Chelsae boots where they were.

"So? We've been together through thick and thin for more years than I can count and it never mattered how different we was. You didn't mind Helena being different just as long as she liked jazz and was a girl."

"But she wasn't real. There were no consequences as long as we were pretending... as long as I was pretending it wasn't you. You have to see this is different, Vince. This is real."

Vince played with the straps on his leather pants. Howard looked back at what Vince had written.

It had clearly been written in a hurry and Vince had massacred Helena's eloquence but there were a few lines that came through loud and clear.

Howard spects to be laughed at and we see what we spect to see. You can't take it personil. It's nuttin you done wrong.

She had a point there.

...and if he knew he was making you cry right now, he'd be heartbroken. He don't realise he has the power to make you cry. You'll have to tell him that yourself. 

Howard felt ashamed that he cause his friend pain and the shame doubled with every moment he stood still and let Vince fidget in his chair.

"You deserve better." It was barely a whisper from Howard but Vince looked up, his eyes defiant.

"I don't want better, I want you."

"Is that supposed to win me over, sir? "I don't want better"?" Howard teased, his toes were on the ledge and he was nearly ready to jump.

"You know what I mean, Howard. I already told you how I feel, I ain't sayin' it again until you say it back."

Vince spun his chair so his back was facing Howard. He should just make out the top of the patch on Vince's jean jacket. It was a faded piece of an old Rolling Stone's tee-shirt that Vince had been sewing onto jackets since he was a kid.

xxx

Vince had beamed up at him as always, "All right, Howard?"

Howard shoved the smaller boy against the wall, "Me mum is still yellin' at me about that lamp you broke!"

"I didn't mean it, Howard, you threw to ball too hard..." Vince tried to squirm away as he spoke but Howard grabbed him by the neck of his Rolling Stone tee-shirt. Other boys were gathering to watch the fight.

"Get'im, 'oward!" a boy yelled, "Teach 'im to stop showin' off!"

Howard was distracted for a moment and Vince made a run for it. One rough pull and Vince was on the ground and his beloved Stones shirt was ripped.

That night, he told his parents he was done with 'the Noir kid' for good and they were very pleased.

The next day, Vince brought Howard an apology collage to his house. He had already turned the ripped shirt into a patch for his jacket. Howard didn't know how to make a collage, not a nice one like Vince, made so he hung his in his bedroom and broke open his piggie bank so he could stuff Vince's pockets full of sweets.

Two hours later, Vince was groaning and holding his stomach and declaring Howard was the best friend he'd ever had.

XXX

Howard decided to jump.

Vince didn't turn around when Howard came up behind him, he just kept playing with the buckles and straps on his leather pants.

Howard gently brushed the silken dark hair from Vince's shoulder and kissed his pale neck.

Vince let out a startled yelp but turned his head to capture Howard's lips. They continued in their awkward position, Vince's tongue exploring Howard's tonsils as Howard groped Vince like a horny school boy. He teased and pinched Vince's nipples through his (intentionally) ripped shirt and stroked him hard through his leathers. Vince moaned in pleasure and gave himself over completely to Howard's attentions like a wanton heroine on the cover of a trashy novel.

The way he had when he'd been dressed as Helena.

Howard had just worked his hand into Vince's absurdly tight pants when Naboo and Bollo returned.

"Bollo can't take much more of this," the monkey whined, covering his eyes with with falafel's.

"I didn't need to see that," Naboo sighed, "Didn't I say to lock up before you started up again?"


	20. Chapter 20

This time, Vince lead them up the stairs. They were nearly to the top when Howard pulled Vince back for one sweet kiss on the mouth. Just a kiss to let Vince know how much he really did care. And then he yanked up Vince's shirt and kissed his flat belly while he tried to unbutton the stiff leather pants.

Vince dropped down onto the stairs as Howard began to pull down his pants and moaned as he kissed his way from belly button to...

"What are you doing?" Naboo yelled, "You have bedrooms! Some of us are trying to eat."

Vince scurried backwards up the remaining stairs, his leathers nearly around his knees. Vince looked good in such an undignified state, wantonness suited Vince much like every hat he'd ever tried on.

Once they were back on Vince's bed, with the door firmly shut, Howard finished removing Vince's clothing. He carefully put the jacket on a hook, the rest he tossed on the floor along with his own clothes. Once they were properly naked, he pushed Vince onto the bed and climbed on top of him, pressing their bodies tightly together. Vince purred like a kitten as Howard kissed every inch of his face and neck, trying to express the feelings he barely dared to think much less say out loud.

Vince grabbed the bottle of lubricant, still sitting on his nightstand, warming the slick substance before moving his hand between their bodies, grabbing both their cocks. Howard bite Vince's shoulder and thought about Flock of Seagulls until he felt a sliver of control return. It couldn't be natural to be this wound up two hours after having two brilliant orgasms. Perhaps his mother was right, maybe he was a sexual deviant. Just because he hadn't gone blind or grown hair on his hands didn't mean she was wrong about everything.

Vince stroked them lightly as he whispered in Howard's ear, "How'd'ya want it this time? Do you want me on top?"

Vince seemed to take Howard's gasp as a yes and wrestled the larger man on to his back. Howard fought back a wave of panic. Of course, Vince wanted this. Why wouldn't Vince want this?

Vince was straddling Howard's waist, his head tossed back as he sighed and stroked their cocks together. The earlier shyness was gone. In fact, when Vince leaned forward and dragged his teeth against Howard's nipple before suddenly leaning back and tossing his dark hair, he was fairly certain Vince was pulling shapes.

Howard tried to focus on the erotic vision before him and not on the potentially awkward and painful thing that was about to happen. Vince had seemed to enjoy it after a little discomfort and Howard was a good bit thicker than his friend. All he had to do was relax and stop thinking.

"Should we get on with it, yeah?" Howard babbled, "Should I get myself ready or should you do it? I'm not sure on the protocol here. Did they cover that is your safe sex lecture...?"

Howard was silenced by a gentle kiss on the lips.

"S'all right, Howard," Vince murmured sweetly, "I'll do all the work. Just lie there and enjoy yourself. You think too much."

"Can't really help it," Howard explained, "I'm no good at relaxing..."

"You did it for Helena."

"That was different."

"I know," Vince acknowledged with a sigh, "but try. For me? I've loved you forever."

Howard closed his eyes and willed his body to relax. There was no way he was letting Vince down, not again. He tensed as soon as he felt Vince's hands between his legs and his breath started coming in panicky little breaths.

"What's wrong, Howard? We done this like two hours ago!" Vince's tone was light but there was real concern in his eyes. Howard opened his eyes and belatedly realized what Vince was doing; he had his hand between his own legs, pressing his fingers into his own entrance, only his knuckles were brushing against Howard.

"I thought you wanted to be on top?" Howard asked, sounding foolish to his own ears.

"Yeah," Vince agreed, before biting his lip and tossing his head back again as he fingered himself. Pulling shapes. "I'm almost ready. Put on a condom."

Howard did as he was told, his lust crazed brain slowly putting together the pieces. Vince was going to be on top but not 'topping' Howard. All that worry for nothing, Howard thought as he rolled on a johnny. Vince wasn't asking anything of Howard, really, he was just giving of himself as usual. For all his self-absorption, Vince didn't have a selfish bone in his body. Yet, his mind added (cheekily), as Vince began lowering himself onto Howard.

Howard grabbed his friend's slim hips at the first look of discomfort, "Does it hurt? You don't have to do this, Vince."

"Don't hurt, just... It's different is all."

"Tell me about it. Tell me how it feels."

Vince ran a hand through his hair and gave Howard a sexy look, "You feel so good inside me, so big and hard..."

Howard nearly lost it at Vince's words but he focused on Vince's jacket hanging from its hook. Vince never acknowledged that Howard had hurt him or scared him that day.

"Not sexy talk, Vince. Tell me what it really feels like so I'll know when it's my turn."

Vince leaned forward to kiss Howard on the nose, "We don't have to take turns, Howard. Be a bit hard pretendin' I'm a girl if I'm bummin' ya."

With that, Vince returned to moving his hips and sliding himself farther down until Howard was all the way in. Vince stopped moving, his eyes closed and his face tense.

"It looks like it's hurting you."

Vince shook his head but took a while to answer. Howard kept turning his eyes to the faded Rolling Stones patch. All his recent sexual activity seemed to have no effect on his libido, he still felt like a horny teen.

"It don't hurt... It's like eating too many fizzy candies with soda. It's so good and sweet that it's almost too much."

Howard stroked Vince's thigh with one hand as his other caressed the side of his friend's wonderfully pointy face.

"You know it's too much," Vince continued, rubbing his cheek into Howard's palm, "and you probably should have stopped already but... you still want just a few more sweeties because it feels so good to have too much."

Vince seemed to have planned a languid session of lovemaking but he ended up on his back with Howard thrusting into him like a wild animal. Howard Moon was a man of letters who appreciated a good simile but he was also human and Vince's sweeties talk had been entirely too much for a sane man to handle. Vince giggled and moaned beneath him until Howard found the right angle, then he fell into a series of growls and half-enunciated obscenities until he came against Howard's belly. Again, Howard enjoyed the all too brief time when he could just focus on the feeling of Vince's delightful body without worrying about his performance. He could feel Vince's eyes on his face as he came.

"I wish you wouldn't look at me," Howard complained through panting breaths after collapsing on Vince like a sack of potatoes, "I feel self-conscious."

"I like seeing your face when it hits you, your face goes all weird." Vince did a rather unflattering impression of Howard's "O" face.

"You always hide your face."

"Yeah! Cause I don't want you to see me looking all weird."

Howard had a lot of things to say and he felt he shouldn't say them whilst buried inside Vince and covered in sweat. However, he knew he'd lose his nerve if he took time to wash off first.

"I don't want to pretend you're a girl, Vince, I like you just the way you are and we can do it the other way 'round any time you like and I'm sorry I ever hurt your feelings or made you cry and everything I did with Helena, I thought I was doing with you and I wanted to kiss you the bed that time and a million other times but I didn't trust myself not to do things you wouldn't like because you always trusted me and I don't know why and it wasn't you that broke the lamp I just didn't want to get yelled at any more because my parents were always yelling at me and my dad said if I spent too much time with you..."

Howard halted his crazed confession, shocked by what he had just said.

"I know what your dad said about me. Your dad said it to me a few times, himself, when you weren't around," Vince's self-deprecating smile didn't quite reach his eyes, "He may have had a point."

Howard stared at the Rolling Stones patch and summoned all his courage, "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Little Man. You're the best thing about every part of my day and I'm almost positive you would be better off if you'd never met me. I'm a weed in your sunshiny garden."

Vince gently pushed the hair back from Howard's face and looked him dead in the eye. Howard fought the urge to look away.

"Howard, you are completely mental."

"I love you, Vince." He said it without breaking eye contact and in full voice. It was the bravest thing Howard Moon had ever done.

Vince laughed.

"This isn't a good time to laugh, Little Man, I'm pouring out my soul here."

"I know, I'm sorry," Vince giggled, "You make me laugh. Your dad was right, I made you all soft."

Howard resisted a dozen double entendres about Vince making him anything but soft since they hit puberty, "Why does it make you laugh?"

"Because..." now Vince was avoiding Howard's eyes, "because I waited so long for you to say it, picturin' it in me head a million times all romantic and mushy and then when you said it the first time and this time... I don't know why I needed to hear it. 'Course you love me! Why else would you put up with me if you didn't love me? I'm always thinking about hearts and flowers when what I have is... "

"A great Northern weed growing in your sunshine garden?"

"Yeah."

"You're supposed to pull the weeds out."

"But you've always been unpullable," Vince countered.

The man had a point.


	21. Chapter 21

Vince and Helena stood side by side as cool and beautiful as the snow covered mountains behind them. They moved their heads slightly, changing their expressions as the photographer yelled his directions.

"Move closer together. Both look to the left. Quit giggling."

The last direction was aimed at Vince. Helena never lost her fierce expression.

"Sorry, but I think I'm actually freezing my tits off out here!"

"This is modeling," Helena snapped, "Now get some intensity in those eyes."

Vince did as he was told and Howard felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. It had been eight months since Vince had gone down on him in a supply closet and he was still surprised by his partner's ability to turn him into a randy adolescent at the most inopportune times.

The Noirs were doing a campaign for a line of ski wear from Jean Claude Jaqueitte. It made sense that they were doing the shoot on a mountain in Aspen, Colorado. It made sense they were wearing skis and ski suits. What seemed odd to Howard was the fact they had their jackets unzipped to show Vince's bare chest and Helena's red lace bra.

When they were done, Vince stumbled towards Howard, still wearing his skis.

"Oh, I need a big Northern hug before my nipples fall off!"

Howard held Vince tightly and did his best to warm the smaller man up as Helena jumped up and down cursing. Jean Claude, himself, stood feet away from her, his face impassive.

"Come over here, Helena, get some Moon lovin'! Oh, he's like a big furnace."

Helena looked dubious but allowed herself to be pulled into a three way hug.

"Oi, you're like a mustachioed heated blanket," Helena mumbled into Howard's parka.

XXX

"That was genius! Vince Noir, super-model star!" Vince was nearly bouncing with excitement as they walked to their suite.

"I thought Helena and Jean Claude were an item, why were they..."

"Shush, Howard!" Vince slapped his hand over Howard's mouth before continuing, "Jean Claude Jaquiette is the hottest designer in the world. It's gonna be a big deal for him to come out as a heterosexual. Plus Helena is worried about everyone thinking she's just his girlfriend when she's just startin' to get famous on her own.

Howard knew all about Helena's concerns. She had sought Howard's advice before embarking on a relationship with Jean Claude. She explained that, on one hand, she thought he was a wonderful man and appreciated that he had never made a move on her while she was under his employ. Instead, he patiently waited for her to branch out on her own before admitting his feelings. On the other hand, she couldn't quite shake her deep-seated belief that everyone in the world was out to fuck her over. As they spoke, it became clear to Howard why Helena chose to speak to him rather than Vince. Helena's well-founded trust issues made Howard's workaday paranoia seem healthy but he could understand her worries better than Vince. Everyone loved Vince.

Howard was glad Helena was taking a chance on Jean Claude. Of course, if Jaquettie ever hurt her, he'd find himself on the wrong end of a gorilla driving a van. Vince hadn't actually offed the lead singer of the Black Tubes - the singer showed up weeks later with no memory of what had happened but no worse for wear - but Bollo and Naboo were convinced they'd make savvy assassins if the need arose.

Helena's "Moon" collection, a line of menswear, had really taken off and she had become internationally known in the past couple of months. All the hottest stars in Hollywood were wearing tailored Hawaiian print shirts under fitted cordorouy jackets with gaudy elbow patches. The line was a mixture of muted colors and audaciously loud prints. It had been a strange day indeed when Vince and Howard had gone to a shop and stepped out of the dressing room wearing the same suit. They'd agreed to never speak of the event again.

The "Moon" line had gained a lot of attention through a series of bizarre ads created by none other than Leroy. The commercials consisted of Vince, his face covered in shaving cream, playing the moon. He would babble some nonsense in a non-specific Eastern European accent about astronauts jumping on his tummy or how his chalky white face made his teeth look yellow. The ads made no sense and had nothing to do with clothes but even Howard had to admit they were almost hypnotic.

Vince opened the door to their suite.

"Are you sure you've got the right room?" Howard asked, despite seeing their luggage sitting by the door. The suite could be pictured in the dictionary under "opulent". They'd gone straight from the airport to the photo-shoot and this was their first time seeing their temporary quarters. They were supposed to arrive days earlier but there had been an incident with an inter-dimensional time portal that had opened in Naboo's shop. Vince had been saving Howard from a race of anthropomorphic ot when they were supposed to be boarding their plane.

"Look at that furry rug in front of the fire place!" Vince exclaimed, "We are definitely having it off on that tonight."

"None of that, we need to get ready for the party," Howard said with authority, his mind filling with erotic images of Vince by firelight. He'd yet to find a type of light that didn't flatter his lover.

Vince wrapped his arms around Howard's neck, "Do you think I did all right, today? Did I look all right next to Helena?"

Howard gave Vince a peck on the lips, "You looked like a star, as always."

Vince smiled and leaned his head on Howard's chest, "Thanks, Howard."

It was a sweet moment, the normally confident Vince turning to Howard for reassurance. Howard's erection felt completely inappropriate.

"Look at that bed, it's as big as my room," Vince whispered into Howard's ear, "and there's a hot tub."

"You only have an hour to get ready," Howard warned.

"I can be quick when I have to."

They were an hour late to the party and Vince had to finish his hair and make-up in the limo.

XXX

Howard's vision had gone blurry but there was always someone pressing a new glass of champagne into his hand. Helena and Vince were in the center of the room, surrounded by adoring lackeys. There should have been a spotlight on them, they were the epitome of fashionable androgyny. His irritation at every person who touched Vince's arm or stroked his chest (pretending to admire the fabric) wasn't enough to make Howard move into their spotlight. He was more comfortable in his quiet corner. As much as Howard had always longed to be seen and to move out of Vince's shadow, he wanted to be the center of attention for actually doing something (other than Vince).

Howard jumped when he felt a hand on his chest.

"What a beautiful jacket," murmured the woman attached to the hand, "I just adore the fabric. What a pensive shade of brown."

Although she was a bit fuzzy around the edges, she seemed to be an attractive woman in her early thirties.

"Helena gave it to me," Howard explained, pointing towards the Noir twins. Helena frequently sent him clothes, saying it was his reward for acting as her muse. She also sent clothes to Vince, saying he needed to dress less like Joan Jett.

The woman's eyes widened, "You know Helena Handbag? I adore her!"

The woman rambled on about Helena and other things she adored, her face too close to Howard's for comfort, as she continued to examine the "Moon" line suit. She was admiring his leather belt when Vince came over.

"Oi! Hands off!" Vince hollered, sounding disturbingly like Helena, "Find your own jazzy freak! This one is well taken."

xxx

Back in their suite, Vince shoved Howard against the door and griped at him for letting himself get felt up by strange women. Howard could have argued that Vince had been fondled by half the party but he was distracted by Vince's hand stroking his cock. Before he came, he promised to tell the next woman who flirted with him to "piss off".

xxx

Howard lay on the soft fa-fur rug and alternated between staring at the fire and Vince. Thoughts flitted through his champagne infused brain like butterflies. One thought kept returning, a question that plagued him for months but he'd been afraid to ask.

"How many people have you slept with?"

"Counting blow-jobs?"

"Yes."

"Hand-jobs?"

"Yes."

"Six."

"Well that's totally... what? What did you say?"

"Six."

"Are you being serious?"

"What are you on about?"

"Sixteen people tried to have it off with you tonight at the party!"

"Yeah, and what happened? I came home with you like I always do. Hard to pull when you keep talkin' 'bout your mate like he's your boyfriend."

Howard pulled Vince close, nuzzling his hair. How had he been so blind for so long?

"Was one of those people Mrs. Gideon?" Howard asked, keeping Vince tight to his chest, not ready to look at his face, "I won't be mad. I just need to know."

Vince was quiet for a while and Howard's mind filled with images of Gideon worshiping Vince's beautiful body.

"Remember that party we had when Mrs. Gideon first arrived? We were all so excited to actually have a woman around! Well, you were showing off for her and when I came over and tried to put my arm around you, you yelled, 'Never touch me, you pointy faced tart!' I guess she was curious so she asked me all about me and you and I had a lot to drink that night..."

"It's fine, Vince. You didn't know I was going to fall for her," Howard stroked Vince's hair, wondering if Gideon had ever been allowed the privilege.

"We didn't sleep together, Howard! We just talked and I told her about how you brought me to the zoo when I was fifteen and we'd been together ever since... she may have misunderstood a few things I told her."

"What did she 'misunderstand', Little Man?"

"People always think you're older than you are... She kinda got the impression I was your under-aged lover that you got bored with when I grew up. That's why she was always on about my hair and trying to be so nice to me. She used to tell me you were lucky to have me and that you were a bastard not to appreciate me."

So it wasn't that Gideon found Howard utterly forgettable, she just thought he was an abusive dick/borderline pedophile. For some reason, it made him feel better.

"And I suppose it never occurred to you to set her straight?" Howard asked in what he hoped was a stern voice. Vince kept his face hidden in Howard's chest as he spoke.

"I didn't want you getting off with her, did I? And it was nice to be able to talk to her about you, about my feelings... I'm sorry, Howard. I was a prat."

Howard showed his forgiveness by rolling Vince onto his back and kissing him senseless. Vince had taken care of Howard (during his lecture on letting women fondle his big Northern physique) against the wall but insisted he wanted to "save it for the fire place" for his own release.

"What do you want, Little Man?" Howard whispered as he stripped Vince of his Handbag one-off paisley jumpsuit (only Vince could look sexy in a paisley jumpsuit).

"You know me, I'm easy," Vince replied as he carefully removed Howard's clothing. Vince always took care when handling Howard's clothes designed by Helena. When Howard wore his old clothes, Vince was not above cutting him out of a rollneck and blaming it on a fit of passion.

Vince had introduced Howard to a variety of sexual positions over the past eight months, some he'd read about, some he was certain Vince had actually invented. There was really only one thing they hadn't tried yet and Howard wasn't entirely sure why.

Lying in front of the fire, drunk on wine and snuggling an actual model - Howard felt like anything was possible.

"Maybe we should try something new," he murmured into Vince's ear.

This time it was Vince who was stern, "We ain't havin' a three-way with that bird from the party!"

"That's not what I was going to suggest..."

"Well, good, cause it ain't happenin'," Vince reaffirmed, holding Howard protectively like a big Northern teddy bear.


	22. Chapter 22

Howard hadn't yet gotten the hang of discussing sex in frank manner.  
"Just spit it out, Howard. Do you want to try charades? How many syllables?"  
Howard stammered a bit and made a few gestures until Vince gave a wicked smile, "Three words, sounds like... Bum me silly."  
Vince laughed while Howard blushed.  
Vince stopped laughing, "Serious, Howard?"  
"Do I look like I'm joking? If I were joking, you'd know it, sir, my wit is legendary."  
Vince gave him a shy smile, "I've been thinking about it but I didn't want to freak you out. You nearly had a panic attack that time you thought I was comin' after your pumpkin ass."  
Howard grimaced at the memory, "I would have done it, I was just worried..."  
"That it would hurt?"  
"Something like that." It came out as one long word as Howard avoided Vince's eyes and tried not to look like a terrified virgin.  
"It's genius," Vince said gently, "I think you'll like it but if you don't, we'll stop. It's not a big deal, really."  
Howard remembered something Vince had said the first time.  
"You said you tried it once and chickened out..."  
Vince rolled his eyes, "You'd have to remind me of that! I'm supposed to be feeling confident here."  
Howard ruffled Vince's hair and earned a glare, "I want to know. Can you tell me about it?"  
"Nuffin' to tell! I met this guy, we got off. We went to his place and things were going good and he asked if he could and I said..." Vince stopped suddenly, clearly editing the story, "and I said okay but I couldn't get relaxed and the more I tried to relax the more tense I got and then he's asking if I want to stop and being so nice about it... I started crying like a big baby. He ended up giving me a blowie and taking care of himself. He was really nice about the whole thing."  
Howard held Vince tightly as he shared his story, "Who was it? Where did you meet him?"  
"Oh, Howard, you don't want to know."  
Howard's mind went into over-drive, "Not Bob Fossil? Leroy? Jaques le Cube?..."  
"Remember when you went off to be the face of trapped wind? And we had that shop keeper, Adam?"  
Howard glared at the fire, remembering how easily he'd been replaced. Apparently more easily replaced than he'd realized.  
"I kept staring at him and we ended up talking and he said he didn't mind if I called him Howard while we did it and I didn't know if you were ever coming back. I'm sorry, Howard."  
"What are you sorry for, Little Man?"  
"I don't know but when you look like that, I usually am supposed to apologize."  
Howard gave an exaggerated sigh, "At least it wasn't Harold Boon."  
xxx  
Vince, stark naked, rustled about the room and brought over a bottle of champagne (courtesy of Jean Claude and Helena), a bottle of lubricant and a fluffy monogrammed towel.  
"We'll have to be a bit neat, this rug looks well-expensive," Vince explained.  
"We could move to the bed," Howard suggested, ever practical.  
"Are you mental? This is a momentous occasion and we got a momentous fireplace. This is happenin'!"  
Vince had just begun kissing his way down Howard's chest when he suddenly stopped and went bounding across the room.  
"I know you're easily distracted but this is ridiculous!" Howard called after his flighty friend.  
"I forgot something!" Vince dug through his suitcase but rather than producing a latex mask or ball-gag as Howard expected, he retrieved an Ipod.  
"This is brilliant, Howard. You're gonna love it."  
Howard was less than convinced but reserved his judgment, clearly Vince was making an effort.  
Vince attached his Ipod to the hotel's speakers and the sounds of The Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo filled the room. It was "Saint James Infirmary".  
"It's all jazzy tunes that I don't hate! Helena showed me some movies from the thirties with Cab Calloway where he was talkin' bout cocaine and dancing like Michael Jackson. It was crazy stuff. I guess it isn't all terrible depressing songs or weird bass solos that go on forever."  
Howard smiled because the depressing songs and the ones with endless bass solos were his favorites but he could see now that he'd been wrong to try and start Vince with jazz fusion. It was too much for the untutored ear. Helena had been much smarter in her approach.  
"And there's something called a Trombone Shorty, not sure what that is exactly..."  
"He's a trumpet and trombone playing prodigy from New Orleans."  
"He is well cool and there's a song by Miley Davis..."  
"Miles Davis," Howard gently corrected.  
"That guy. He does this song that's like real jazzy but it also goes..." Vince ba-da-be-bopped 'What I Say?' until Howard was forced to throw the younger man on his back and ravish him.  
"Oh," Vince giggled as Howard devoured every inch of his skin, "Wait 'til you hear the Cold Train song I picked!"  
Howard didn't bother correcting him, his mouth was already occupied.  
xxx  
Vince fell asleep in Howard's arms after an orgasm he swore made him 'go into the future'. Johnny Coltrane was playing, "I'm Old Fashioned" as Howard held his androgynous male lover.  
He was debating between waking Vince or just picking him up and putting him to bed when the sound of Lady Gaga's "Born this Way" (Vince's ring tone for Helena) began competing with Coltrane's smooth groove. Vince jolted awake and scrambled for his phone. His conversation was brief and involved almost no words. Vince and Helena had fallen back into a sort of twin language shorthand.  
"Helena had tomorrow's photo shoot pushed back to the afternoon so I can get me beauty sleep," Vince explained, crawling back into Howard's arms, "She says we're already too old to model as it is, we can't have bags under our eyes."  
"You look as young as springtime."  
"You are well corny."  
"No, I'm old fashioned."  
Vince smiled at Howard's acknowledgment of his song choice, "This fire place in genius. You cannot sit in front of this fireplace and not want to shag."  
Howard drank some more champagne and tried not to think as Vince began to kiss him. He tried to be one with the faux-fur rug, a man in touch with his sexuality and not disturbed by having another man rubbing a well-lubricated finger down there...  
Vince's finger was gone, his hand moving to Howard's cock and stroking it lightly until Howard was again able to relax into Vince's kisses. Vince was the Prince of Kissing. If there were advanced degrees in kissing, Vince should be awarded his Ph.D. any day now. Vince's kisses, like the man himself, were a mixture of sweetness and carnality.  
The next time Vince moved his hand between his cheeks, Howard forgot to be nervous. In fact, he found himself demanding more. Despite his usual butterfly-like attention span, Vince was a man of intense focus when it came to shagging.  
"Okay, Little Man," Howard moaned into Vince's ear, "Yeah?"  
"Enough with the Little Man business," Vince teased as he slid on a condom, "I ain't that little."  
Howard began to tense again when he felt Vince at his entrance but he was soon lulled with a mixture of kisses and Etta James singing "In the Basement".  
"Now this is some shagging music," Vince murmured into Howard's ear as he began pressing inside, "Do you like it?"  
Howard wasn't sure if he meant the music or the other thing but he was groaning in an undignified way that must have answered Vince's question. Every inch of Vince sent Howard's brain spinning with the overwhelming sensation of being filled and stretched. It was too much and not nearly enough.  
"Oi, Howard, this is mental. This might be over before the song," Vince explained, somewhat apologetic.  
"Vince, oh, Vince," Howard waited until his friend stopped moving before attempting anything more articulate, "I have complete faith in you."  
Vince gave a wide grin and began moving again, "This is nice."  
Howard gave a half chuckle-half grunt at the understatement. Vince was brushing against his prostate with each thrust, it was like the first time he heard Charlie Mingus: it was an awakening.  
"S'nice, Howard," Vince moaned, chewing on Howard's ear, "You trusting me like this, n'all. For the love of Jagger..."  
Howard smiled as Vince's face screwed up in concentration. His vain friend usually hid his less flattering expressions in bed - always the performer.  
When he ran a thumb along Vince's sharp cheekbone, his friend leaned into the touch like a cat, "I love you, you know," Howard whispered.  
Vince laughed, "Christy, you know just what to say, don't you?"  
Howard wrapped his legs around Vince's small hips, wanting to be even closer. He'd never imagined there would be a time he would feel so comfortable touching another person, being touched - trusting another man the way he trusted Vince.  
"You look all thoughtful," Vince observed, his sweaty forehead pressed to Howard's, "Tell me what you're thinking about. I could use the distraction."  
Vince needing to be distracted. How the world had been flipped on its head in the past few months.  
"I'm always thinking, Vince, I'm a philosopher. My mind is finely tuned," Howard slipped into his melodious braggadocio without thinking. Sometimes he didn't hear the words he said to Vince, they were just a rhythm.  
"Are you the fastest thinker in Leeds?" Vince asked in a cheeky tone. His face was so close to Howard, his handsome face was distorted.  
"Of course, sir. The sharpest mind in Yorkshire."  
"Wow, that is an accomplishment," Vince teased, "I hope this never ends."  
Howard shifted his weight slightly, "You've got a photo shoot tomorrow, it has to end before then. I daren't face the wrath of Helena if you're late."  
Vince began moving slowly, long and smooth strokes that made it impossible for Howard to think, "You know what I mean," Vince whispered, "I don't want this to ever be over."  
Howard held Vince tightly until the younger man began to quicken his pace. When Vince's hand wrapped around Howard's cock, it was too much. Howard came just as Vince began thrusting in earnest. When Vince came, as usual, it was with his face buried in Howard's shoulder.


	23. Epilogue

It was Howard's last night and Vince had convinced him to 'go camping' in Vince's backyard.  
Tomorrow, Howard was on a train and heading to his new life as a zoo keeper. It would just be Vince and Leroy left behind. Howard was growing up and moving on. Without them.

Vince curled up next to Howard under their shared blanket. Leroy was doing his summer visit with his gran. When it was just Vince and Howard, the Northerner was usually up for a bit of a cuddle. Howard didn't resist as Vince lay his arm over his chest.

"I'm gonna miss you, Howard," Vince said for the millionth time - maybe it was the billionth time that night.

Howard stroked Vince's hair, not like a lover - more like he was petting a golden retriever. Vince wasn't complaining; when it came to Howard, a snuggle was a snuggle. Vince took what he could get. His cheeks were flushed and he was almost painfully hard but he didn't think Howard would be able to tell either in the dark.

Not that it mattered, Howard was running off to his precious Tommy in the morning. Tommy Nooka, Howard's new hero. Vince had never met the man but he hated him for stealing Howard.

Howard had been hard to get a hold of, literally and figuratively, ever since he'd started slipping off with Donna Fitzpatrick. Donna was well known for having done it with more than one boy already. Howard was driving in the fast lane now and leaving Vince in the dust.

Vince had loads of girlfriends but he didn't get anywhere with them, he didn't know where to begin. Instead, he continued to 'practice' kissing with Leroy. They'd been 'practicing' snogging for months now. Sometimes Leroy tried to go further but Vince wasn't ready.

He didn't want Howard to know about what he did with Leroy, it was strange to have so many secrets in his head.

"Tell me something about you I don't know," Vince asked, his head resting on Howard's chest.

"You know everything about me," Howard replied, "We've been together forever."

"There are things I don't know about you," Vince countered, "Tell me something about yourself."

"I can't think of anything."

"Have you and Donna done it?"

Howard laughed, it was a strangled and bitter laugh. It didn't suit a sixteen-year-old. Howard was so unhappy beyond his years.

"No, we have not 'done it'," he explained quietly, "We aren't doing anything. We're just friends."

"Why?" Vince asked, "I heard Donna is well easy."

"My dad's having an affair with her mum."

Vince was lost for words. He couldn't even look up at Howard's eyes, he just kept his face buried in the older boy's chest.

"Donna told me, but I didn't believe her," Howard continued in a soft and even voice, "She says her mum does this kind of thing all the time and I shouldn't be bothered. I saw him come over with my own eyes. I told Mum and she told me to mind my business."

Vince threw his leg over Howard's, pressing his body against him and holding him tightly. Howard tried so hard to please his distant father and always thought he fell short. Vince had always known Howard was a better man than his father, even when he wasn't a man yet.

"I'm so sorry, Howard. I'm so sorry," Vince murmured. Howard tensed beneath him, Vince realized he was pressing his erection against Howard's side.

Vince let go of his friend and scooted back a few inches, "Sorry 'bout that, too."

Howard pulled Vince back into a half-hug, "I don't mind. I'll miss you, too, Vince."

Vince returned to half-lying on Howard's chest, tears were forming in his eyes. He felt Howard's lips press against his hair and the tears began to fall.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," Howard whispered.

Vince's throat was closed and it took him a few tries to get the words out.

"I have a brother who looks just like me but he's a girl."

Howard squeezed him so tightly, he could barely breath and the tears kept coming. Howard kissed his cheeks and forehead, Vince could felt the older boy's erection against his leg.

Vince was ready to do anything Howard wanted, he just needed to stop crying first.

"I'll talk to Tommy, you can come with me. You love animals," Howard promised, wiping Vince's tears away with his fingers, "You'd be a brilliant zoo keeper."

Vince tensed at the mention of Tommy's name and immediately regretted it, Howard was already retreating.  
xxx  
Helena used her tiny plastic sword to stab another maraschino cherry from her Manhattan. Her drink had more cherries than bourbon, the hotel bartender knew her well.

Vince's eyes were glazed as he told her about camping with Howard before he left to work at the Zooniverse. Her twin's normally animated features were almost blank as he spoke, he was so lost in his memories.

"I told him I had a brother who looked just like me but was a girl but he probably just thought I was making things up or coming on to him," Vince snapped out of his trance and laughed, "I reckon I might have got somewhere that night if I'd been able to stop crying. I didn't hear much from him for the next couple months, then Tommy disappeared and the zoo had an opening. When I got there, we were the old double act but I wasn't allowed to touch him at all - not even a hug. I wonder if he found out about me snogging Leroy or 'bout me having it off with Donna Fitzpatrick after he left. She was in love with him, too, but he didn't want her either."

Helena took a long drink of her Manhattan and let the fire move through her veins while she gathered her thoughts.

"I have one question."

"Yeah?"

"Why the fuck did you let me sleep with Howard when you were in love with him? Why did you encourage me to make a move... Why did you fucking orchestrate the whole fucking thing when you loved him? Why did you let me think you just had a schoolboy crush when you knew you loved him even then?" Helena regretted her harsh tone when Vince flinched. He didn't answer, he didn't have to. Helena could read it all in his face. He had wanted to make Howard and Helena happy.

Helena teetered on her barstool as she reached over to hug her brother. Vince squeezed her tightly.

"I'm sorry if things were weird for you," Vince said, his sad eyes inches from her own, "I thought you'n'Howard would be good together. I wasn't playing around. I didn't think Howard would ever want to be with me like that. Not for real."

Helena looked over to the corner where Howard was strumming a guitar as Leroy read from a piece of paper. Leroy was completely mental but he was a marketing genius. Vince followed her gaze.

He looks extra handsome when he plays the guitar," Vince observed, "Funny him and Leroy are friends again. I thought Leroy might be mad at us but he's been really great."  
Helena knew Leroy had been easing his broken heart with plenty of groupies, male and female, since launching the "Moon" campaign. Although she'd nearly knocked his teeth in at the time, she now fondly remembered the way Leroy had yelled at her for 'stealing' Howard from Vince. His devotion to her brother softened her heart and brain; that was the only reason she considered his insane campaign idea for her new line. When, against all odds, she actually like his pitch - she'd called Jean Claude for his opinion. Jean Claude told her to trust her own opinion because she was 'the most brilliant woman I've ever met.'

Then he told her he loved her. She hung up on him.

She kept hanging up but he kept calling until she admitted she had similar feelings for him.  
The seduction of Howard Moon had been good for her. The old Helena would have changed her number, cut all ties. She was still paranoid and pessimistic and fully expected her relationship with Jean Claude to crash and burn but she was giving it a chance. She was giving herself a chance.

"Let's sing," Helena suggested before draining her Manhattan. Vince helped her eat the remaining cherries before they took to the stage, beckoning Howard and Leroy to join them. The jazz quartet had been playing smooth, unobtrusive jazz all evening. Maybe it was the bourbon or maybe it was the was her lingering crush on Howard, but she wanted to see the musicians play loud! They deserved to be heard instead of just being mood music. She knew there wasn't a jazz chart she could name these guys couldn't play from memory.  
Vince popped the collar on the blue corduroy suit she had hand-made for him, the fabric making his eyes a startling blue, and grabbed the microphone.

"People of Aspen! You have come here to drink over-priced drinks and ignore jazz but you are in for a treat. You have before you Vince Noir, rock'n'roll star! Helena Handbag, fashionista extraordinaire! Howard Moon, jazz maverick and sexual god! And a half-black, half-Jewish Englishman- his 'fro beggars belief- Leroy Abromowitz!"

Leroy grabbed the mic and added he was also the man behind the "I'm the Moon" ads before Vince pushed him out of the way and began to sing.

"Hey, folks, here's the story about Minnie the Moocher. She was a low-down hootchie-cootcher..."  
Vince's performance would have made Cab Calloway say, "That's a bit over the top," but the crowd ate it up. Helena, Leroy, Howard and each member of the band took a turn leading the crowd in the scatting callbacks. Vince loved scatting as long as Helena referred to it as 'making up words' and not scat. He really hadn't changed much since they were children. Howard nearly fell into a jazz trance but Vince was able to bring him back to reality by sticking his tongue down the taller man's throat as a form of jazzy CPR. Helena barely acknowledged Jean Claude when he walked in the door. They were being discreet. She had a career to think about.

After a good fifteen minutes, Helena made Vince wrap up "Minnie the Moocher". She sent Vince back with the other guys, took the microphone, and in her best and sultriest combination of Helen Kane, Betty Boop and Marilyn Monroe sang, "I Want to be Loved By You" without ever breaking eye contact with Jean Claude.

"I'm not resting until I find, what would make your eyes glisten with joy. Now listen, big boy..."  
Fuck discretion.


	24. The Christmas Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written because... Sometimes I can't say good-bye!

Helena's nails wear painted clear with a high gloss so they looked like glass. Each nail had tiny, delicate snowflakes drawn on them and when she tapped them impatiently, it's was like a mini-snow flurry.

 

"Why do I even need to be involved in this 'holiday party'? It's Jean Claude's tradition, not mine. You know I've no use for holidays," Helena sighed as she sipped her mistletoe martini.

 

"You're in a relationship now, and relationships require compromise," Vince sagely explained, "Like I'm in a relationship with Howard so he has to brush his hair once in a while and sometimes I have to listen to jazz while we're having sex even though it puts me off. Sometimes I have to imagine I'm a prossie in old timey New Orleans and some famous jazzer is playing in the reception room."

 

Helena smiled at her twin and thought about how well Vince and Howard balanced one another. Vince was learning to tolerate jazz and Howard was learning to tolerate happiness. Over the past year, Howard had tried to end their relationship repeatedly but Vince had taken Helena's advice; every time Howard suggested they return to being 'just friends', Vince agreed. Then Vince would go to the club, get pissed, and climb into Howard's bed for a snuggle - the way he had done before he and Howard started having sex. If Howard then felt the need to make the situation a sexual one, that was his own lookout. Howard never had a chance against Helena's cynical brain mixed with Vince's wide-eyed innocence. Vince wasn't even trying to be manipulative, he just loved to snuggle his Howard. 

 

Helena also thought she was going to use the New Orleans prostitute fantasy, nothing wrong with a little Lady Marmalade.

 

"Besides," Vince continued, "Parties are genius! You get to make a big entrance with an outfit you designed..."

 

"I also need to feed these people and give them enough booze that they don't write about me being cheap in all the the paps. I don't need this kind of stress."

 

"How 'bout fancy dress? I love fancy dress parties!"

 

Helena sighed, "Very helpful, Vince."

 

"You said you wanted it to be a 'holiday party' and not a Christmas party. You wouldn't even get a holiday tree."

 

"Holiday tree. As though it could be a Hanukkah tree or a Kwanzaa tree. It's a goddamn Christmas tree and everybody knows it."

 

"So do a fancy dress party with a theme so it ain't about Christmas. Everyone can come as their favorite rock star, I'll be Joan Jett! Get my jumpsuits back out of the closet."

 

Helena sipped her martini and eyed her brother thoughtfully. He was wearing a suit from her Moon collection. The suit was navy blue with elbow patches in a loud paisley to match his shirt. His hair was only a little past chin length and artfully mussed but not overly styled and his make-up consisted of a little bit of smudgy eye-liner. He looked trendy and beautiful but not especially androgynous. She'd been noticing a change in his style (and approving) but it suddenly struck her as odd. Vince had always loved being 'the confuser'.

 

"Isn't about Christmas and since when are your jumpsuits only for fancy dress parties?"

 

Vince shrugged, "Dunno. Just going with a different look these days."

 

It wasn't a lie, Vince was a terrible liar, but he was the king of omission. He could look into Helena's eyes and say (with all sincerity), "I think you and Howard would be great together. You marrying Howard would be genius! You could have a bunch of little nippers and I'll be Uncle Vince, teach 'em 'bout real music and how to back comb," but leave out the tiny fact he was desperately in love with Howard himself. That was the price of being made of sunshine, no one expects there to be anything hidden in all that light.

 

She was distracted from her concern for Vince by the familiar sound of an iPhone taking a picture.

 

She looked up in dismay to see a young girl frantically putting the phone away.

 

"Oi! Did you just take a picture of us? While we was eating?" Helena bellowed.

 

"Were eating," Vince corrected, utterly failing to keep a straight face.

 

The girl nodded silently and handed over her phone without a fuss. Helena deleted the unflattering pic and handed the phone back.

 

"Now, don't take another until I give the word."

 

Helena made sure her dress and Vince's suit were well displayed as they pretended to eat for the picture. One had to be careful of one's image when one was in the public eye.

 

xxx

 

"I'm coming around to the fancy dress idea," Helena admitted over dessert, "It could be a literary theme. I could be Scarlett O'Hara, use real curtains and everything."

 

Vince looked concerned, "I don't really read books. Other than the Charlie books."

 

"Don't start with that Charlie business," Helena snapped, instinctively.

 

"Why are you so afraid of Charlie? He likes you."

 

Helena covered her ears, just as she'd done when they were children and Vince brought up his bizarre imaginary friend.

 

She heard another camera snap.

 

xxx

 

It was a compromise. Vince thought it was genius that someone had written a book based on Kate Bush's song "Wuthering Heights". Helena didn't bother to correct him, she'd leave that to Howard. She was too busy watching the Kate Bush video and designing Vince's replica red dress.

 

xxx

 

Vince's mouth was hanging open as the closing credits rolled.

 

"Wot? They don't even end up together? What is that about? I expect this from you and Helena but I thought I could trust Kate Bush. How is that supposed to be romantic?"

 

"They couldn't be together, there were too many things in the way..."

 

"Stupid things! Nothing as important as being in love with someone. Sod the estate. They could have set up camp on the moor and been happy together. That's what me and you would do. We'd just go find a place to be happy and..."

 

Howard would have liked to have heard the rest of Vince's thoughts but he couldn't be held accountable for his actions when Vince talked like that and he was forced to pin the smaller man down on the couch and kiss him senseless. 

 

When his mouth was free again, Vince continued in the same vein.

 

"No way would I let you get away, even if you are grumpy. You're mine and ... oh..."

 

"Keep talking," Howard encouraged as he freed Vince from his tight trousers, "I'm listening."

 

"I... wow. Um. Yeah, even when I thought you didn't want me - I didn't go finding someone else. I stayed with you, where I belonged and... Oh, Howard."

 

Howard took Vince as deep down his throat as possible and was rewarded with complete incoherence from his partner. Vince ran his fingers through Howard's hair, playing with his curls. Howard held Vince's twitchy hips still as the fingers tightened in his hair, a sure sign Vince was almost there. Howard sped his pace until Vince whimpered a handful of obscenities and spilled into Howard's mouth. Howard had grown almost fond of the bitter taste and completely infatuated with the way Vince collapsed into a boneless puddle after being brought off in this way. Vince grabbed Howard by the collar of his Hawaiian shirt and dragged him in for a kiss. 

 

As Vince's hands moved towards Howard's belt buckle, the Northerner decided he could be happy living on a moor with Vince. They could be happy anywhere.

 

xxx

 

Helena carefully lined Vince's eyes in kohl. With the auburn wig and make-up, her brother looked less like Kate Bush than Florence Welch but he was undeniably beautiful. It was torture for Vince to go so long without looking in a mirror but Helena held fast, he couldn't see himself until she was done.

 

She dusted his face with a light powder to set the make-up and finally allowed him to see his reflection. 

 

"Flippin' hell, Howard is going to go mental when he sees me," Vince observed in an awe-struck voice.

 

What the statement lacked in eloquence, it made up for in veracity.

 

xxx

 

Howard was already in costume, he just needed side burns and a little artful hair mussing. 

 

The Northerner suited his Heathcliff costume. Helena could easy imagine his stomping about the moor, mooning over his Catherine and being irritable. He went red when Helena told him he looked handsome. Apparently, his embarrassment was contagious because Helena suddenly felt self-conscious as she applied spirit gum to his face. He really was quite handsome.

 

A very handsome - sort of - brother-in-law. 

 

She wondered how Jean Claude looked in his Rhett Butler costume. There had been no plan to avoid seeing one another's costumes, there was just too much to do for the party to allow for anything but exchanging brief texts about last minutes details and disasters. He was currently 'working the floor' while Helena had yet to put on her costume much less make her entrance.

 

Properly Heathcliffified, Howard helped Helena wrangle her dress. He laughed heartily at the gown made of curtains.

 

"Isn't this going to be incredibly heavy and uncomfortable?" Howard asked, his eyes squeezed shut though Helena's underwear were period and therefore less revealing than any of Vince's jumpsuits.

 

"God yes," Helena laughed as she was engulfed in curtains, then she remembered Howard's fashion affliction, "but it's a fancy dress party full of famous people so I would wear a dress made of broken glass if it gave me a what appears to be an 18 inch waistline."

 

Howard shook his head in confusion and disbelief. Helena wondered what Vince and Howard talked about when they were alone. No wonder they made up songs about soup. What else was left when you took shared musical interests, fashion and celebs off the table?

 

xxx

 

Howard moved through the party cautiously. Most of the guests had gone for rather elaborate costumes, and everywhere he looked, he saw towering wigs and elaborate hats that seemed all too precarious on their owners' skulls. Since his first growth spurt at twelve, Howard had always felt a bit oversized and clumsy. It took him a while to find Vince in the crowd. Ever the sociable one, Vince's newfound celebrity as the face of whatever Helena had him being the face of at the moment had doubled his exposure. There was always someone clamoring for his attention.

 

He well remembered the Kate Bush video so he had an idea of what to look for. Vince had hoped to marry Kate Bush before realizing that by the time he was old enough for their nuptials, she'd already be in her thirties. It had been a hard lesson for Vince to learn at a tender age - people, even cool people, get older with time.

 

Howard smiled when he saw a flash of red and heard Vince's laugh. Even a party full of beautiful and trendy people could be made tolerable with Vince at his side. 

 

xxx

 

Vince tried to look well deep and thoughtful as someone took a picture of him to send to Florence Welch. Kate Bush has already officially approved of his look. It gave Vince pause to realize that being with Howard had given him the emotional maturity to realize that he'd be lucky to get a chance to hook up with Kate, no matter how old she was, because she was still amazing. Ironically, he now could not hook up with Kate because he was in a relationship with Howard. Being deep was very confusing, it was no wonder Howard had crow's feet.

 

He was eagerly awaiting Howard's arrival. Russell Brand (a fetching Mad Hatter) had said lots of very nice sounding things to Vince but he didn't understand all the words the gangly man used. Katy Perry (a nearly obscene Alice) has translated Russell's words as, "He thinks you're fun to be around," but he felt Howard might have picked up on some more of the nuances. Howard was genius when it came to nuances, it was obvious things that vexed Howard.

 

"Cathy, I think you've found your Heathcliff."

 

Vince wasn't sure who had spoken and when his eyes found Howard, he forgot all about his gaggle of friends. Howard was trying to look serious but his eyes were dancing. Vince ran and jumped into Howard's arms, fully expecting them both to end up on the ground and possibly injured.

 

Howard not only caught Vince, he held him with confidence as they kissed. Vince heard the clicks and imagined their images being tweeted across the world with the words, "Florence from Florence and the Machine Snogs Liam Neeson at party."

 

As if by magic (but actually by the very careful design of Helena's elite party planning team) Chris de Burgh sat down at a piano and began to sing "Lady in Red". 

 

As Vince snuggled himself into Howard's arms, he wondered if the performance was a gift for him or for Chris.

 

xxx

 

It was Vince's idea to sneak off to a bathroom to finish ruining his makeup with some messy snogging but, for once, Howard needed no convincing to misbehave. Vince lead Howard through a series of hallways that he thought looked familiar before accepting the fact he was already pissed on wine spritzers and totally lost. Jean Claude's house was huge.

 

"Look at the size of this bathroom! It's bigger than our bedroom!" Vince exclaimed, but Howard had already attached himself to Vince's neck, his hand cupping a faux breast through the red material of his dress.

 

Vince giggled at their reflection in the enormous vanity mirror. He'd had fantasies like this as a youth; elaborate tales in which - through the use of a magic potion or some other unnatural intervention - Vince appeared to be a beautiful girl and Howard fancied him and they made love. Of course, Howard somehow would know deep down it was Vince because it didn't really work if Howard only fancied girl-Vince. Howard had to ultimately want the real Vince or it all got a bit sad for a fantasy, especially if he was trying to have a wank.

 

Vince watched Howard's thumb run over the nipple of his silicon falsies. They were top of the line fake breasts; Helena only dealt in top of the line.

 

"You like that?" Vince asked, his voice a little breathier than he'd intended. Howard growled and pressed himself into Vince, leaving no doubt that he did 'like that' very much indeed.

 

"You make a good Healthcliff. The sideburns, the moping..."

 

"I don't mope," Howard corrected as he moved to the other side of Vince's neck, caressing both of his 'breasts' as he did so, "I'm a deep thinker. Dark. Philosophical."

 

"Stroppy," Vince added, earning a playful bite from his philosophical Heathcliff. Vince had several times suggested a mirror (well, mirrors) for their bedroom but Howard had stood firm. He didn't want to know what he looked like during sex. He was afraid he'd look like a 'rutting pig' or worse, like his father. Howard had once witnessed his father having sex with a woman who wasn't his mother and was equally traumatized by the loss of innocence and the 'acres of pasty white, flabby flesh'. Vince's reassurances never had an effect on Howard. When Howard was determined to feel bad about himself, there was nothing and no one who could change his mind.

 

As Howard began pulling up Vince's dress, he wondered if this experience might help Howard. Maybe he'd see what Vince saw in the enormous mirror with its flattering lighting.

 

He waited to be turned around when Howard dropped to his knees behind him. He looked at his oddly lovely and feminine face in the mirror as Howard kissed the back of his thighs and buttocks. When Howard thought he had a girl-Vince on his hands (the surprisingly real Helena), he'd been chuffed and made good use of her. The unwitting Helena had shared their exploits in detail as Vince kept a smile on his face and reminded himself that he was supposed to be happy for Howard for finally losing his virginity and maybe finally feeling better about himself. All Howard's pomp and arrogance was just a thin veil to hide his deep-rooted insecurities. 

 

Vince could understand that. He'd had a few insecurities in his life. Not many, he was generally happy with himself, but he worried about things like getting older and that maybe Howard only settled for Vince because he didn't think he could have Helena - who was smart, sophisticated and a proper woman. Little things like that.

 

The first time Howard panicked and told Vince they should go back to being, "just friends," Vince had been too gob smacked to argue. He called Helena who suggested he hit the clubs and then demand a drunken snuggle from Howard.

 

"He broke your heart, the least he can do is comfort you!" 

 

Howard had tried to keep Vince from climbing into his bed but Vince held firm.

 

"Some big Northern brute broke my heart and as my friend, it's your job to tell me he's an idiot and that there's nothing wrong with me! You need to tell me it's not because I'm stupid or cause my nose is too flat to be properly handsome or because I gag too easily to give a good blowie..."

 

Howard had ended up fucking him senseless while telling him he was perfect and too good for a miserable git who didn't know how to be happy. Vince had been too drunk and emotional to do much more than hang on to Howard's shoulders and cry but in the morning, he could see why Helena was so successful in her career. Howard and Vince had been like puppets on a string for her, acting out the scenario just as she envisioned. 

 

After giving Howard one of his mediocre blowjobs, he'd confessed seeking Helena's advice. He didn't want Howard to take him back just because Helena tricked him. Howard had held Vince tight to his chest, the way he did when he didn't want to make eye contact, and explained he only chucked Vince before Vince had a chance to chuck him and that Vince gave amazing blow jobs.

 

Vince gripped the marble and shuddered as Howard's tongue took a surprisingly intimate turn. He'd done it to Howard but he'd never expected Howard to reciprocate. The guy maintained a dust-free Stationery Village. One expected a certain level of vanilla.

 

Vince whimpered as Howard's tongue moved deeper. He saw his contorted face in the mirror and tried to find a more flattering way of showing his ecstasy. He didn't want to be pulling weird faces during sex and putting Howard off. His efforts were in vain as Howard continued to explore, becoming more and more aggressive until Vince's legs began to feel a bit wobbly.

 

"Okay, Howard. I need you. Now," Vince pleaded. Ever the gentleman, Howard was on his feet in an instant and searching through the drawers for a suitable lubricant.

 

Vince tried to fix his hair while Howard found a small jar of Vaseline.

 

"You look beautiful, stop being so vain," Howard teased as he moved his slippery finger between Vince's cheeks.

 

"You look well handsome, you suit sideburns... oh, Christy."

 

Vince lost his train of thought as Howard slipped two fingers inside of him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Howard staring at him intently in the glass.

 

"See, we should get a big mirror for over our bed..." 

 

Howard stroked the side of Vince's face as he worked in a third finger, "You're so beautiful."

 

"Think of how easy life would've been if me and Helena was both born girls."

 

Howard looked thoughtful as he moved his hand from Vince's face to his chest, stroking his silicon breasts as his other hand stretched and prepared Vince. It was a losing battle to try and look cool and sexy, Vince was moaning and grinding himself into Howard's hand.

 

"You're almost as beautiful as a woman as you are as a man," Howard said softly as he unfastened his trousers.

 

"Do you ever wish..." Vince lost his ability to speak as Howard's cock slipped inside him. It was a feeling he never got used to. It was the most intense sensation he'd ever felt and he'd had Naboo's hashcakes.

 

Each time he opened his eyes, he saw himself grimacing and red-faced but Howard looked beautiful and composed as he thrust himself into Vince's body. His thoughtful eyes reflected in the glass as he studied Vince's reflection.

 

Howard tugged at the dress until Vince's black bra was exposed. He ran his fingers over the lace and thrust harder until the silicone filled bra bounced like real breasts.

 

Vince had never denied being vain but even he thought it was a bit much that he was getting turned on looking at himself. Helena was a fucking genius.

 

Howard leaned Vince forward and found the angle where he was hitting Vince's prostrate and making him cry out with each thrust while his bra jiggled enticingly. Howard was a fucking genius.

 

Vince whimpered as big Northern hands explored his 'chest' and then moved under his bra to his actual chest. Howard rubbed and tweaked his nipples until Vince's body began to tense up.

 

"I'm almost there," Vince whimpered and was rewarded with a big, solid hand clasped over the front of his lace panties. He came immediately without so much as a stroke from Howard. Howard kept a grip on his panties as he fucked Vince harder and faster until he came with a feral growl, the way Heathcliff would have come in Cathy - all manly and passionate.

 

Vince clutched the marble counter and felt a bit weak as Howard cleaned them both up to the best of his abilities in a guest bathroom.

 

"That was well kinky, Howard. I am countin' that as my Christmas gift," Vince announced as he tried to make himself presentable.

 

Howard blushed and gave Vince a chaste kiss on the cheek, "We should probably get back to the party."

 

Howard kept his hand on Vince's waist as they navigated the maze of corridors, trying to follow the sounds of the party. 

 

"Just to be clear," Howard announced as they approached the sounds of merriment, "There's not a thing that I would change about you."

 

"What if you could make me like jazz fusion?"

 

Howard pretended to think.

 

"No. I wouldn't change a thing."

 

xxx

 

Helena didn't have much in the way of formal education but she was smart and she knew how to read people. Her rather devastatingly handsome Rhett Butler was going to try and carry her up the staircase. He wouldn't succeed with her help. He was a Frenchman raised in Swiss boarding schools on a diet of soft cheeses. She was a transgender from South London who needed a bit of steak and kidney pie a week or she went all anemic. Jean Claude didn't stand a chance. 

 

The question was: did she want to make a dramatic exit from her own party? What gave her more pause than the possible social taboo was the decidedly ring shaped box she could see in Jean Claude's pocket. They'd discussed marriage and children in the hypothetical. There was nothing hypothetical about an engagement ring. That shit was real.

 

Parties end, it's not like she could put off the proposal indefinitely.

 

Well, she could. She was good at distracting people but she loved Jean Claude. She didn't want to leave him hanging. 

 

Jean Claude was approaching her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She considered running.

 

Instead, she allowed herself to be swept off her feet as cameras clicked all around.

 

xxx

 

Vince giggled and squirmed as Howard helped him out of his dress. Once he was in his bra and knickers, Howard began running his hands over Vince's nearly nude body.

 

"Howard, you can't possibly be horny again!" Vince laughed as Howard cupped his fake breasts.

 

"I'm a man of great passion, you knew that when you took that leap across the physical boundary..."

 

"I didn't know you'd be this kinky! I'm not complaining, mind you. I love that you're a freak."

 

Howard suddenly went still and Vince had the feeling he was about to get chucked again.

 

"Howard, I'm kidding. You're not a freak, not really..."

 

"Vince..."

 

Vince twisted around to get a look at Howard's beet red face.

 

"What is it, Howard?"

 

Howard never actually verbalized what he wanted but Vince was able to figure it out eventually. 

 

xxx

 

Howard woke up with his arm completely numb under Vince's sleeping body. The beautiful Catherine now looked a bit more like Alice Cooper but, still beautiful. Howard flushed at the memories of last night. The tryst in Jean Claude's bathroom seemed tame compared to getting fucked by Vince, still in his bra and wig. Howard was constantly surprised by his level of perversity and soothed by Vince's cheerful acceptance. 

 

Howard still felt shy asking Vince to top him, even after being together well over a year. There was a part of Howard that felt it wasn't 'manly'. Howard was still struggling to get over his old hang-ups and he worried he was infecting Vince with his self-doubt. If Vince was worried that Howard wanted him to be a woman, he imagined last night would have made it abundantly clear that Howard was very happy that Vince was a man.

 

Very happy, indeed.

 

Vince stirred slightly and then leapt up.

 

"It's Christmas! Let's open presents!"

 

Howard shook his arm awake, "You can't open presents naked, Vince! Get back here and put some clothes on!"

 

xxx

 

Howard considered pinching himself. He couldn't possibly be holding an original David Monette. The man who hand crafted trumpets for Wynton Marsalis and Maynard Ferguson could not possibly have created a trumpet for Howard Moon.

 

"Vince," Howard said, trying to keep his voice steady, "Do you know what this is?"

 

"Yeah," Vince responded cheerfully, "It's a trumpet! Made just for you! Do you like it? Helena said Dave is well skilled at making trumpets. He's really nice, too."

 

Howard decided that is wasn't tears blurring his vision, it was simply the visual overload of Vince's red and green sequined jumpsuit.

 

"Now, where's my present?"

 

Howard handed Vince his gift. Vince frowned.

 

"This is definitely too skinny to be clothes or shoes," then his face lit up, "Is it a mirror?"

 

Howard laughed as Vince tore open the wrapping. 

 

It was rare that Vince appeared to be at a loss for words. He simply covered his mouth with his hands and stared, tears forming in his wide blue eyes.

 

Howard had taken Vince's only picture of him and Helena, one he had retrieved from the waste basket after their mother had ripped it in half and thrown it away. Vince had sellotaped the picture back together. When he'd first shown the picture to Howard, trying to prove he had a twin, Howard had thought it was an absurd ruse. Now he could look at the twin babies in a shared crib and immediately recognize which was Vince and which was Helena. Even as a baby, Vince had radiated sunshine.

 

"I still have the original. Helena introduced me to some whiz kid who could edit out the tear and blow it up. I think it came out great," Howard explained, "I figured you could hang it up somewhere..."

 

Howard was knocked to the floor by sea of red and green sequins. His original David Monette soon became the second best gift Howard Moon received that Christmas.


End file.
